


As Dreams Are Made On

by furiedheart



Category: Loki laufeyson - Fandom, Thor - All Media Types, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Choking, Collars, Dubious Consent, Implied Torture, Leashes, M/M, Moments of dubious consent, Nightmares, Sex With a Sleeping Person, Slapping, Smut, Tom and Loki look at each other a lot, Tom and Loki look at each other and secret meanings pass between the two, Tom or Loki do not ask each other permission for sex every time they have sex, author apologizes, author has lots of feelings about Loki and his nightmares, dub con, future scenes of torture, there is no handwritten contract for any of the sex in this fic, they look at each other, this is a work of fantasy, who have known each other for years, with two grown men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 85,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furiedheart/pseuds/furiedheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki suffers from nightmares and Tom tries his best to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Shakespeare's 'The Tempest': "We are such stuff as dreams are made on/and our little life/is rounded with a sleep."

The nightmares started long before Loki had ever met Tom, that much Tom figured. In the moments following a bad dream, Loki would be shaken and visibly confused, eyes unfocused, pushing away at Tom, not recognizing him. In fact, Tom was certain that the dazed glint in Loki’s eyes was plain fear, something he rarely saw in the god’s eyes. What could have happened to him to give him such terrible dreams?

Tom didn’t know what could possibly be triggering them. He and Loki lived in relative peace and contentment, Loki displaying affection seemingly reserved only for Tom. He was often disinterested in other people and tended to be cold with strangers, but he touched Tom often, almost in reverence. The best times were when Tom noticed Loki touching him absentmindedly, caressing his knee while reading, circling his wrist with long fingers while flipping through the channels in the evening. Then there were the times Loki touched him deliberately, his sole focus on Tom. Walking down the hallway, Tom would hear Loki approaching him from behind and before he knew it Loki would spin him around and press him to the wall, his lips the only anchor Tom had to the earth, or when Loki would slip into the shower with him, his raven hair and green eyes stark against the white tiled walls, coming nearer and nearer. Even in his sleep, Loki sought him out, face in Tom’s neck, a long pale arm draped over Tom’s waist. Sometimes he slept the whole night. But other times, like tonight, Tom would be drawn from sleep by Loki’s heated whispers. 

Not recognizing the language, Tom scooted closer and peered over Loki’s shoulder; saw his eyes screwed tight, the sweat on his brow, the clenched fists. 

“Loki,” he said quietly, already doubting trying to wake him. What was it he’d read somewhere about waking people from nightmares, how it wasn’t a good idea? He shook his head, unsure, and ran a thumb over Loki’s cheek, not wanting to startle him. “Loki, it’s just a dream, love. Open your eyes.”

Loki was murmuring something, his breathing quick and shallow. Tom was staring down at him when suddenly Loki’s green eyes flashed open, panicked. He sat up with a small cry, his hands curled defensively, glaring into the room at large. Tom stumbled behind him but sat up on his knees immediately, already reaching out for Loki. A mistake, he realized. 

Loki couldn’t see Tom from where he sat hunched over and when Tom placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder, a word of comfort forming on his lips, Loki reacted and in a split second, had Tom pinned to the bed, his hand wrapped around his throat. Loki growled above him, not seeing, not knowing, desperate and afraid. Tom gasped beneath him, hands grasping at Loki’s wrist. 

“Loki!” he choked out. After another moment, Loki’s eyes cleared and his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Thomas,” he whispered, releasing Tom’s throat and shuffling back to the corner of the bed. Tom dragged in air, coughing slightly. Loki’s eyes shifted down to the floor, shame on every inch of his face. 

Slowly, Tom sat up and stretched a hand across the bed, palm up, fingers open. 

“Come here,” he said, his whisper loud in the dark room, but still he saw Loki shaking his head adamantly.

“I didn’t see you, I didn’t see you,” he replied, voice so small and quiet, eyes closed again, perhaps replaying his dream in his head, something Tom definitely didn’t want him to do. 

“I know, love. Just…come here.”

Loki breathed in once and then crawled the small distance between them, stopping just before Tom, sight focused on something behind Tom’s head. Using his fingers to turn Loki’s eyes to his, Tom stared at the changing emotions on Loki’s face: fear, apprehension, confusion, love. 

“My darling,” Tom said and something in Loki’s face fell apart. He threw his arms around Tom’s shoulders, his weight dragging them both to the bed’s surface. Loki began kissing every part of Tom he could reach, cheeks, jaw, nose. Stopping abruptly, his gaze flickered from Tom’s eyes down to his lips. Cradling Tom’s head gently, he touched his lips to Tom’s, warm and soft and possessive. When Loki pulled back, Tom saw the tears in his eyes, gathered but not fallen. Before he could say anything, Loki moved his gaze to Tom’s throat, red from his grip. Bending low, Loki trailed his lips from one side of Tom’s neck to the other, feeling the warmth of Tom’s blushing skin. The words on Tom’s tongue crumbled away as Loki set him ablaze. He opened his legs so Loki could settle closer and moaned as their hips came into contact. He ran his hands up Loki’s back to his shoulders, turning his head to give Loki better access to his neck.

“Oh, my…Loki,” he gasped, as he felt Loki’s teeth grazing his shoulder. Already he could feel Loki’s erection pressing against his own, Loki’s cotton pajama bottoms and his own boxers the only barrier between them. Loki ground his hips down and Tom gasped, digging his fingers into Loki’s skin. Desperate, Tom pulled Loki’s face to his and kissed him, bruising his lips, swallowing Loki’s groan when Tom wrapped his legs around Loki’s hips and pulled him closer. Loki began to rut against Tom, the friction making Tom hyper aware of Loki’s body heavy on his own, of Loki’s breath on his cheek, of the soft caresses Loki’s fingers were making on his temple. 

“Please, my darling, please,” he said, his whisper rushed with longing. 

Loki leaned up on his elbows, eyes wide. “You bring me out of it, Thomas. You bring me out. I fall in so deep, they snatch at me. I fight and I fight and it’s you. I would see this world burnt for you. I would build it up again if that is what you desire.” He buried his face in Tom’s neck, planting kisses and love bites, making Tom squirm with longing. “Anything you ask, my love. It’s yours. It’s yours. For you, it’s yours.”

“You,” Tom gasped between kisses. “I want you.” Kiss. “With me.” Kiss. Kiss. “Always.” 

Loki smiled, a brilliant shine in the dark. “You will not be rid of me.”

He knelt back and hooked his fingers under the band of Tom’s boxers, pulling down. Tom’s cock sprang free and he stifled a moan at the way Loki was looking at it with hunger in his eyes. 

“You. Now you.” Tom reached to Loki and quickly rid him of his pajama bottoms. Loki naked was a sight indeed. Long, hard lines, trim muscle strong under his pale skin. His erection stood high and Tom couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his hand around Loki’s cock and squeezed gently. Loki hissed, putting his hand on Tom’s shoulder to steady himself. His eyes fluttered closed as Tom began moving his hand up and down, his thumb swirling around the head, using the precum to lubricate his movement. Loki stopped him with a gentle nudge and Tom lay back, watching as Loki sucked on two of his fingers. Carefully, he pressed his fingers to Tom’s entrance, stretching him. Tom leaned his head back, white spots appearing behind his eyelids when Loki brushed against his prostate. 

“I’m good, I’m good. Please now.”

Loki held Tom’s hips down as he pushed his cock in, both he and Tom tensing from the sensation. He pulled out and pushed in twice before Tom was able to take him in all the way. He leaned forward on his elbows again, needing to be as close to Tom as possible. Tom wrapped his limbs around the god, urging him on. They pressed their lips together as Loki bucked forward. Tom gasped, breaking the kiss, and Loki began nipping at his jaw and sucking at his neck. Loki pressed Tom into the mattress with every thrust, his hip movement fast and hard. Tom’s cock between them was swollen and red, getting little stimulation from Loki’s belly. He met Loki’s thrusts, trying to rub himself against Loki.

“My impatient one,” Loki breathed into his skin. “But I would deny you nothing. I adore you, Thomas.”

“And I worship you, Lo—“ He cut off with a cry as Loki reached down and gripped Tom’s cock in his hand, pumping slow then fast. Tom was lit from within, his body pulsing with Loki and everything he encompassed. His desire spiraled low and like a coil unwinding, he came undone. His orgasm ripped through him, his cry lost in Loki’s mouth, his cock throbbing and leaking cum on his chest. 

“There you are, Thomas. You are absolute divinity when you come for me.” Loki was sucking on his lip, biting gently. Tom was already drifting, his orgasm having drained him. He was barely clinging to Loki, who was still thrusting strong. Tom rolled his head to the side, exhausted, when Loki latched on to his neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. With a few more thrusts, Loki came in him, his hips stuttering to a stop, moaning into Tom’s neck. They lay together, breathing hard, until Loki pulled out slowly. Tom made a small noise of protest but couldn’t open his eyes if he wished it. He lay boneless as Loki knelt next to him and scooped him up. Tom vaguely remembered wondering at how strong Loki was and it wasn’t until Loki chuckled that he realized he spoke aloud. 

Tom felt Loki wiping his chest with a cloth. Loki then arranged their bodies together under the blanket and Tom sank into his embrace, breathing him in. 

“But you make me stronger, Thomas. Believe me when I say you save me every time,” Loki whispered into his hair. And then, “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Tom clutched at him harder. “You didn’t. You weren’t here; you were somewhere else. Sleep now, Loki. Nothing can harm us now.” 

As Tom drifted off, his breathing becoming slower, Loki held him close. His own eyes were heavy with fatigue, but he kept them hooded, seeing nothing as he stared into the darkened room, sleep a yearning but not one he would give in to, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow he will sleep. Maybe tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom asks Loki about his dreams.

Morning saw them in a tangle of pale limbs. Loki, against his great effort to avoid sleep, drifted off around 3 in the morning, his face pressed to Tom’s neck, the spot he found the most comfort, the spot he only just recently hurt.

Tom blinked his eyes open, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the east window. Loki was wrapped tightly around him, arm and leg cast over Tom’s body, breathing softly at his throat.  
His throat. Now that he thought about it, it felt sore. Raising his hand, he gingerly pressed his fingers to the skin there and winced. It didn’t hurt terribly but he wondered if it was bruised. With Loki clinging to him, he couldn’t check in the mirror yet. He laid there for several minutes, enjoying the feel of Loki’s body next to him, his little murmurs. 

If Tom had learned anything about Loki throughout their time together, it was that Loki often talked in his sleep. Sometimes it was unintelligible murmurings, like what he was doing now; other times it was in a completely different language. Tom heard Loki whisper his name a lot, too, and he noticed that Loki wouldn’t wake from whatever dream he was having when it happened.

Tom was so accustomed to Loki’s nocturnal mutterings that it usually wouldn’t wake him anymore. He would catch it in the dim light of dawn, when his sleep was thinnest and Loki clung to him the hardest. But his nightmares were altogether a different matter. Tom felt so helpless. How could he protect him from something that seemed to attack Loki from within his own mind?

Just the thought of Loki in pain or afraid made Tom squeeze him a little harder. Loki squirmed in his grasp, roused from sleep. The tip of his nose bumped into Tom’s jaw as he lifted his head. Tom loosened his arms to allow Loki to lean up on his elbow. His eyes were still closed, his dark eyebrows furrowed. After a few seconds, green irises squinted at him. 

“Thomas,” Loki said, barely audible, but with a small smile. He was leaning in for a kiss when his eyes shifted down and widened in alarm.

“What is it?” Tom said, sitting up and looking around him, expecting to see a spider or something similarly creepy crawling away. “I don’t see anything.”

Loki was silent. He’d sat up and was now staring at Tom’s neck. He raised his hand slowly and traced his fingertips over Tom’s sensitive skin. 

“For goodness sake,” said Tom, tossing the blanket aside and standing. He marched to the bathroom and stood before the mirror. His pale body was tall and strong. He peered close and saw faint bruising at his hips, but that was common. Tom’s gaze found what had rendered Loki silent just moments ago. His throat was red, even purple in some areas, the shape distinctive of Loki’s hand. He leaned forward and moved his head left and right. Like the bruises on his hips, Tom often displayed evidence of their lovemaking. Loki being enormously more powerful than Tom, his grip and force would leave marks on Tom’s skin, marks Tom wouldn’t notice until the day after, marks he relished in seeing, feeling claimed by Loki and loving the possession. 

Loki hadn’t been in his right mind when he did this, anyone could see that. But it had been only Tom in the room with him and Loki had felt threatened by his presence, by anyone’s presence, it seemed.  
Tom lifted his chin and removed his fingers from his neck, the bruising not bothering him in the slightest. What bothered and angered him was what put Loki in this state, what frightened him so much he didn’t even recognize his lover upon waking. He turned from the mirror and came face to face with Loki, who moved so silently everywhere he went. 

“Thomas, I—“ Loki began, his eyes at Tom’s throat again.

“Loki, enough,” Tom said. Loki went silent, but something flashed in his eyes, a remnant of his former life, something that didn’t like being told what to do. Tom smiled, seeing just how much Loki loved him. It seemed immeasurable and made his heart ache with the heaviness of his own love for Loki. “Look at me, darling.” Loki was fixated on an invisible spot on Tom’s chest. Slowly, Loki raised his green eyes to his, his brows tight, reading Tom’s reaction. Tom placed his hands on Loki’s shoulders and watched as his green eyes fluttered shut.

“Your dreams.” 

Loki’s eyes snapped open again and he tried to step back, but Tom squeezed his shoulders, holding him in place, which he really shouldn’t have been able to do. Had Loki wanted to leave, he would have. Tom, while a strong healthy man, had strength that did not compare to Loki’s. It was a token of Loki’s respect for Tom’s wishes that he allowed him to hold him in place. Tom slowly pushed Loki until his back was against the wall. Loki’s hands went to Tom’s waist. They both sighed. 

“What is it you dream of, love? That you wake so afraid, fighting something that’s not there, that you don’t recognize me.” Tom brushed his thumb over the pulse point of Loki’s neck, felt the steady pounding there. 

Loki blinked a few times and took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I remember and sometimes I don’t.” He smiled faintly, his eyes grazing Tom’s face. 

“What do you remember?”

Loki paused. “Light. Blinding me. Other times the deepest dark, a heavy dark, like there are hundreds of thousands of pounds of earth above me. Either way, I can never see, can never make anything out. There are noises like metal clanging in a nearby room. Restraints on me.” Loki swallowed. “And then there is the heat. Such terrible heat, Thomas.” He looked down and his fingertips tapped a random beat against Tom’s hips. Tom remembered how Loki would sweat during most of his nightmares. The combination of stress and fear can do that, but was the threat of actual heat a factor as well? Tom knew Loki was prone to prefer colder weather. He never needed to bundle up in scarves and coats, like Tom did. And then there was that time Tom had spied Loki outside after a seasonal snow. The moon was half grown, casting just enough light to see that Loki was bare chested, kneeling in the yard, his palms flat against the hard ground, eyes closed. Reverential. His skin almost appeared blue in the strange midnight light. 

“Loki, where is this coming from? Why would you dream such terrible things?”

Loki looked back up at Tom and blinked. “They are memories, Thomas.”

Tom froze. His hand at Loki’s neck dropped to his side and he stepped back. Loki was staring at him, his face a mask of confusion and relief, relief that Tom finally knew. “Memories? You mean to say that you’ve lived this?”

“I’ve lived a great many things, Thomas, but yes, this was the most recent and it’s somehow…lingered.” The last word slid out of his mouth with a bad aftertaste. He raised his gaze to Tom, who stood silent, eyes glazed over, a million thoughts trying to process in his brain. Loki’s heart rate spiked, his need for Tom desperate and sudden.

“Thomas,” he whispered, despising the damned tears gathering in his eyes. Tom was motionless. Loki needed him to say something, anything. His distance, while only a couple feet, was suddenly overwhelming. “Thomas, touch me.” He swallowed. “Please.”

Tom snapped back, Loki’s plea loud in his ears. He saw Loki, leaning against the wall, naked and vulnerable, his hand turned upward to Tom. Without hesitating, Tom took a step and crushed Loki to him, Loki burying his face in his neck immediately, leaving soft kisses on his bruised skin.  
“I’m here, love. I’m here.” He rubbed Loki’s back, Loki’s arms like a vice around his shoulders. He pulled back and brought Loki’s face up to his level. “I don’t know what you’ve been through. That is entirely up to you to share. But I am here and I will listen, if you ever do need to share. Okay, my love?”

Loki dragged in a breath and held Tom’s face in his hands. “I remember some of it. But not all. Sometimes the worst parts come to me in dreams and when I wake they are gone and all I’m left with is the fear. And I hate it, Thomas. The fear. I hate it.” A sob choked out and he put his face in Tom’s neck again. 

Tom could barely control his anger. He felt his body burning with it. “Whoever did this to you, Loki, I—“

Loki’s popped up. “That you will never know. Your safety is the only thing that matters to me. I can protect you, Thomas. In my sleep, I lapse and lose myself, and I apologize for that.” Tom started shaking his head, but Loki kept on. “It’s in my past and no longer important to me. I rarely think of it. Only when I have to, like just after a dream.” A smile broke out over his face. “Or when my lion of a lover brings it up.” Tom blushed and looked down. Loki cradled his head and kissed his nose. “You know, there were a couple of times when I woke from my nightmares and you were still asleep. After I’d calmed myself down, I couldn’t get close enough to you.”

Tom smiled. “I do usually wake up to you positively draped over me.” They both laughed softly. Outside, birds began to chirp. They turned toward the sound. Loki placed a kiss on Tom’s cheek and stood upright. “Well, Thomas. I certainly am looking forward to you cooking breakfast for me.”

Tom nipped at his jaw, recognizing when Loki wanted to change the subject. “Cheeky bastard.” He blinked and his mouth fell open. “Oh but darling, today we need to grab some more groceries.” Loki let out a long suffering sigh. Grocery shopping was not his favorite thing to do. 

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to go then.”

Tom turned and started up the shower. Testing the water with his hand, he said, “You don’t have to go. I can just run to the store quickly and be back within the hour. I know how you get with strangers.” 

Loki was barely able to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “You think I’m mean to them, but honestly, Thomas, I am treating them just as they deserve to be treated.” He started muttering something about their insipid states of being and not liking how some of them looked at Tom. 

Tom felt immense relief that Loki was sounding like his usual self. He knew, however, that this was far from over, that whatever plagued Loki in his dreams needed to be resolved. He just didn’t know how.

“And,” Loki continued, “I wish not to be apart from you at this moment.” Tom reached for his hand and squeezed gently. After he pulled Loki into the shower with him, he panicked momentarily about the heat in the water and whether it would hurt Loki, but Loki was single-minded in his attention to Tom, cornering him, the warm water flowing over their bodies. He turned Tom and nuzzled his neck from behind, his hand snaking around Tom’s waist and palming his erection. As Loki pushed into Tom, Tom closed his mind to all but Loki, his scent, his eyes, his lips, his heart. They would figure this out. They had to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Loki go grocery shopping. Loki has another nightmare.

Tom and Loki dressed in comfortable silence. Tom chose dark blue jeans with a light blue button down and a black leather jacket. Loki dressed in black jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Once outside, Tom locked the door and zipped his jacket up, the air chilled and breezy. He thought of doubling back to grab a scarf, but decided against it. They wouldn’t be out for very long. 

Loki ambled down the driveway to Tom’s car. Tom studied Loki from behind, noticing how tired he looked, despite his best effort to hide it. In the shower, he’d seen the bruises under his green eyes. The lack of sleep was getting to him. He needed to start sleeping the night through. 

Loki, kept waiting, cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at Tom, who quickly made his way to his side of the car. The god could always read Tom like a book.

Tom hit the button on the remote and the car doors unlocked. Loki opened his door and folded himself into the seat, not bothering with the safety belt. Tom followed suit but buckled in and started the ignition. They usually didn’t use the car for their outings, with everything being within relative walking distance. But groceries were an exception. 

Loki absolutely refused to drive. Tom had asked him about it early in their relationship, but Loki adamantly refused to try, saying that if he ever needed to be somewhere quickly, he would magic himself there. His magic. Yes, that was something Tom had needed some getting used to. He smiled at himself and put the car in gear, backing out slowly.

“Why are you smiling?” Loki asked, peering at him from where he sat with his arms crossed over his chest, already preparing himself for the arduous task ahead. 

“Nothing, just remembering some of the memories we’ve shared.”

“Do tell.”

“Remember that time you first used a toaster?” Loki grimaced. “Or when the refrigerator bulb went out and I was going to replace it but then you simply touched your finger to it and it lit up again?” Loki smiled. “Or when you kissed me that time at the South Bank and pulled a tulip from behind my ear.” Loki grinned.

Tom grinned back. “You’re blushing.”

Loki turned toward the window. “I am not.” He seemed suddenly fascinated by the passing scenery. Tom reached over and twined his fingers with Loki’s, their hands resting on Loki’s knee.

“I do love seeing you blush, darling. You don’t do it often enough.” Loki huffed and kept staring out the window, but Tom felt him squeeze his fingers gently. 

After waiting at a few lights, they pulled into the grocery store parking lot. Tom picked a spot off to the side of the entrance and they got out. As was usual with weekend shopping, the store was packed with people stocking up on food for the coming weeks. He grabbed a cart from the line outside the store and he and Loki walked in. Tom immediately picked up on Loki’s unease. Loki didn’t like interacting with people, especially large groups of people. And frankly, Tom knew Loki enough to worry that he might in some way act on his displeasure. That’s why Tom usually did grocery shopping alone, mostly on his way home from work on Fridays. Tom reached over and squeezed Loki’s hand, drawing his attention away from the people around them. Loki turned to him and his face visibly relaxed. He gave Tom a small smile and took a deep breath. 

“Okay?” Tom whispered.

“Okay,” Loki said with a small nod. 

Tom immediately began listing the things they needed in his head, wanting to get Loki out of the store as fast as possible. First stop was fruits and vegetable produce. He bagged bananas and apples, lettuce and other greens, keeping a side eye on Loki, who stood by the cart, following Tom’s movements with his gaze. He was tapping a beat on the cart’s handle, something he did when nervous. After he was finished there, they made their way to the dairy aisle. Tom noticed a couple of people giving them double takes. Their eerily similar appearance tended to make people do that. Loki’s straight black hair and green eyes and his own curly blond hair and blue eyes were something to consider, but still people stared. And anyway, Loki’s scowl usually deterred people from looking too closely. He picked up milk and a carton of eggs, navigating them to the bread aisle. Loki strayed when they passed the small toy section, cannily placed next to the cereal boxes. He picked up a small red ball that lit up when bounced. Loki was entirely fascinated by it, placing his fingers on the surface and turning it this way and that.  
Tom smiled and continued down the aisle. He turned his attention to the bread selection, collecting a couple of loaves of wheat bread and putting them in the cart. 

“Excuse me?”

He looked down. The woman addressing him was absolutely tiny, even in her spiked heels. “Yes?” He said politely.

“Might I ask you for a tiny favor? That loaf of bread on the top shelf? Would you be a dear and bring it down for me?” She smiled her white smile and brushed her expertly cut blonde bangs out of her eyes. 

“Yes, of course,” Tom said, immediately turning to the shelf and reaching up for the bread she’d indicated. He handed it to her and she beamed up at him, sticking her chest out just slightly farther than natural.

“Oh, thank you so very much. You are so nice.” She blinked and glanced down demurely. “I haven’t seen you in here before. Do you often shop—“ She glanced back up and frowned, staring at something behind Tom.

He turned to see what had startled her and came face to face with Loki, who was staring down at the woman from his full height, green eyes flashing. Tom felt Loki’s hand at the small of his back, sliding to curve slightly at his waist. 

Before Tom thought to say something, the young woman was backing away, stuttering her thank you and leaving the aisle. It was deserted now, except for the two of them. 

“Now, really. Was that necessary?” Tom turned his head to Loki, who stared after the woman’s disappearing figure. He slid his eyes to Tom, face impassive. “She just asked for some bread, darling. Did you see how short she was! Poor thing probably can’t reach the majority of items in this store.”

“She didn’t want the bread, Thomas.” His voice was quiet. 

Tom sighed, choosing his battles. “Alright. I did get the impression that she was…attracted to me.” He walked to the cart and began pushing it up the aisle, Loki trailing behind. “That doesn’t mean I have to be rude to her, especially when she’s requesting something completely within reason.” 

Loki said nothing and Tom let it be, smiling to himself. Loki’s jealousy was amusing and quite endearing, to be honest. Tom paused and turned to Loki, knowing the stress the god was under at the moment. He let Loki catch up to him and then half stepped into his embrace. “We’re almost done, okay?” He gave Loki a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, but Loki gripped him hard and planted a firm kiss on Tom’s lips. Tom chuckled and blushed. “Alright, you win.” Loki grinned and let him go. 

Up the aisles they went, Loki no longer straying. At the checkout line, they began unloading the cart. The woman ringing up the items was older and had a blue apron on over her uniform, most likely to avoid spills when they happened. She greeted Tom, who returned her smile. He was busy keeping an eye on the total and helping Loki place their things on the moving conveyor belt. Once the cart was empty, Loki moved to the end and began placing their bagged groceries into the cart again. 

The woman, whose name tag read ‘Susan’, gave Tom the total. He reached for his wallet and counted out the money, handing it to her. She accepted it with a wide-tooth smile, but then hesitated. She frowned, her eyes narrowing. She appeared to be looking at something below his eye level. He glanced down, too, wondering if his shirt was stained without his knowing. 

“Oh, sweetheart, are you alright?” She subconsciously touched her fingers to her throat and suddenly Tom understood. 

He popped the collar of his leather jacket and zipped it up further, offering her an easy smile. “Yes, of course. Just an accident but all is well.” Every inch of his body was attuned to Loki, whom he could see out of the corner of his eyes, had frozen completely, a heavy bag hanging from his fingers. 

The woman was still staring. She cast an uneasy glance in Loki’s direction and Tom began to lose his patience with her, his protectiveness for Loki flaring. “My change, please?” he asked, a smile plastered on his face. 

She rung him up and deposited his change and receipt into his waiting palm. “Thank you,” he said, grabbing the remaining few bags and steering Loki to the front of the cart. “Push,” he whispered. 

Loki’s jaw was clenched but he did as Tom asked, the two of them walking out of the store. Tom slipped his hand into the crook of Loki’s arm and leaned in close. “It’s alright, love,” he said, pressing his nose to Loki’s shoulder. They reached the car and Loki stopped the cart by the trunk. He stood still, Tom’s hand still attached to him.

“She thinks I abuse you, Thomas.” He looked down and began gathering the groceries. Loki’s anger was palpable and Tom hurried to help with the bags. 

Loki wasn’t looking at him. Tom reached and took hold of his wrist, stopping him from flinging another bag into the trunk. “Hey, we both know you don’t abuse me.” He scoffed at the word, because it was a ridiculous notion. He never felt safer than when he was with Loki. “This is something we will figure out. Together. Okay?” Loki kept his eyes on the pavement and only after a moment did he raise them to meet Tom’s gaze.

“Alright,” he whispered. After a pause, he said, “I apologize, Thomas. I should have healed you before we left.”

Tom smiled. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We did get a bit distracted.” They laughed quietly and Loki leaned in to kiss Tom’s cheek. As they finished placing their groceries in the car, Tom saw lights dancing in one of the bags. He rummaged around and brought out the red ball Loki had been playing with in the store.

“What’s this?” Tom said with a smile in his voice. Loki looked up and blushed, twice in one day.

“That is mine.” He plucked it out of Tom’s hand and walked to the car door. 

“You didn’t steal it, did you?” 

Loki smiled and winked. “Of course not, you bought it for me.”

Tom chuckled and went to put the cart away. When he returned Loki was in the front seat, reclined with his eyes closed, facing the window.

“Loki?” he whispered. No response. He was fast asleep. The red ball was resting in one of his closed palms. Tom turned the ignition and pulled out of their spot, navigating the parking lot with care. He kept glancing over at Loki. The fact that Loki nodded off was worrisome. Loki was insatiable in all things, his energy seemingly limitless. It made Tom wonder how long he had been going without sleep. And how often he couldn’t avoid it, as his nightmares proved he eventually did end up falling asleep. Did Loki lie awake at night while Tom slept, trying desperately not to fall into his dreams? Tom sighed. He searched his brain for a possible solution to Loki’s trauma, whatever it was. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Someone had hurt Loki in a terrible way. He couldn’t even begin to understand why. So much of Loki’s past and history away from this earth were a mystery to Tom. But he’d never needed to know. Loki was everything to him. He would do everything in his power to help and protect him. 

A movement next to him caught his attention. Loki’s hands had seized up, fingers crushing the red ball he was holding. They snapped open and the ball dropped to the floor of the car, red lights bouncing everywhere. 

Tom kept his gaze on the road, but placed his hand on Loki’s knee, rubbing through his jeans. “Loki, darling. It’s alright.” Loki was murmuring. He rolled his head from the window and Tom saw his eyes screwed tight, sweat on his brow. He was in a nightmare.

Up ahead, the light turned red and Tom cursed. He needed to pull over to help Loki. He quickly changed lanes and pulled into the parking lot of a meat packing plant, closed for Saturday. He parked the car and unbuckled his seat belt. Loki was making a small whining sound in the back of his throat, his hands like claws on his lap. Tom reached over and pulled Loki over to him across the seat, putting his back flush to Tom’s chest. Loki moaned and shook his head against Tom’s shoulder, saying no to whatever was happening in his dream. Tom felt tears in his eyes at the movement, wanting to stop whatever it was that was hurting Loki, who seized up again, his back arching. Tom scrambled to hold him steady. Loki’s hand found Tom’s leg and gripped the material of his jeans, his knuckles bone white. Tom pressed his cheek to Loki’s, one arm draped across his chest, holding him close. The other he placed over Loki’s hand gripping his leg, soothing him.

“My darling, I’m here. It’s alright. Wake up to me now, love. Wake to me, please. Please, Loki, I’m here. It’s not real. It’s not real.” He whispered it over and over, like a mantra he wasn’t sure Loki could hear. 

After another minute of Loki’s small thrashes, he collapsed back against Tom, his breathing labored. Tom rocked him slightly, his space limited in the car. He whispered Loki’s name to him in his ear and placed small kisses along the fine black hairs of his temple.

Loki woke with a gasp. “Thomas?” Loki croaked. He was shaking. Tom wrapped his arms around him.

“Yes, love. I’m here. I’m here.” He bent his head low and kissed Loki’s neck. 

“Did I hurt you?” Loki whispered, his voice small, riding on a single breath. 

“No, my darling, you didn’t.” 

Loki took a deep breath. “I could feel you, Thomas. You held me through it. I could feel you and I could hear you.” With Loki facing away from him, Tom almost missed the tear gliding down his cheek. He turned Loki’s face to his and kissed the tear in its path.

“I will always be here, Loki. I love you.” He kissed Loki’s mouth. “I love you.” Loki turned his upper body and hugged Tom tightly, putting his face where he loved the most. Tom could feel Loki’s breath against his neck, could feel when Loki pulled back slightly. Loki’s cold fingers pressed against his throat, the tingling of his magic at work. Tom sighed when Loki put lips back against his neck and kissed it devoutly. 

They sat together in the car, in the empty parking lot, their murmurs soft in the closed space. After a while, Tom helped Loki sit up, his body still weak. He curled up in his seat facing Tom. Tom started the car again and began to drive. Loki reached over and laced his fingers with Tom’s free hand. Tom glanced at him, eyes heavy with sleep, sweat still on his forehead. Loki was getting worse. It seemed like he would dream every time he slept and not every so often, like before. Tom was beginning to wonder if help lay in another source, someone not from earth. He frowned and started to formulate a plan to ask Loki about his brother, Thor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki manages to fall asleep without dreaming and Tom remembers how they met.

By the time Tom brought them home safely, Loki was asleep again. He was still, his long body curled on the seat, his fingers warm in Tom’s hand. His head was angled downward and his breathing was soft. No murmurings, no distress. 

Tom softly detached his hand from Loki’s and opened his door quietly. He jogged to the front door and unlocked it and then went back for the groceries. He glimpsed Loki through the passenger window as he passed it, afraid he would see him in throes of pain, but he was motionless. He went back and forth, carrying the bags into the house. When he clicked the trunk closed, Loki was still asleep. Tom really didn’t want to wake him, not when he was sleeping so soundly and apparently dreamlessly. He went back into the house but left the front door open. He went to the window overlooking the street and pulled open the shades, his view of Loki in the car unobstructed. He put away the milk and eggs, all the things that needed to be refrigerated and left the items that could be stocked in the pantry for later. He walked out to the car and climbed into the driver seat, sitting silently. 

Loki was beautiful in so many ways. He was stunning, really. All height and dominating stance, large hands and insistent lips. His smiles, when given, were blinding. A dimple appeared in his right cheek and his eyes crinkled with mirth. He would tease Tom about his laugh though, claiming Tom threw his head back and that his tongue peeked out from between his teeth. Tom was positive he did no such thing.

He sighed, sinking into the memory of how the god had entered his life. 

He’d had a feeling for days that something was coming. Not one to give in to superstitious feelings, he’d tried to ignore the sense that he was being watched. He went about his days, walking to and from work. Stopping at the bakery on the corner across from his office. Reading during his lunch. Coming home, running in the evening. Making dinner for one. Going to sleep. 

In all truth, his life before Loki had been dull. Yes, he’d kept a routine, something that gave him great comfort. But he longed to be just a little bit bolder, see more places, simply feel more. Tom had no family. He was an only child and his parents had died in a car accident when he was in his last year at university. He didn’t like to think about them, his sadness about being left alone in the world overwhelming. 

And then one morning, he’d walked into the bakery and stood in line behind a tall gentleman with black hair. He heard him order the exact same thing Tom always did, which he thought was curious. The man paid the cashier and turned, giving Tom a good look at his face. Tom had gaped unashamedly, stunned to see his own face staring back at him, albeit clean shaven and with green eyes. The man with his face gave him a small smile and winked, brushing past Tom and out the door into the cloudy morning. Tom swiveled back to the cashier, who was also staring at the man’s retreating figure, her gaze jumping back to Tom with a surprised look on her face.

“Are you related to him?” Tom was just able to shake his head at her question. She shrugged. “Well, what can I get you?”

He cleared his throat, feeling his face warm. “What he had.”

Following that encounter, Tom didn’t see Loki again for an entire week. Tom had hoped he’d run into him again at the bakery, even if he convinced himself it was such foolishness to think about someone with whom he’d never even exchanged any words. But on he went, listlessly going about his daily business, landing on the bed at night restless and nervous about something he couldn’t name. He’d fall asleep with the vision of green eyes in his mind, a small smile and a wink. 

One evening, he’d gone out for a jog, the sky dark with clouds. A light mist began falling, but Tom was comfortable with it. He’d only been running for about fifteen minutes when he heard it, so clearly in his head.

“Thomas.”

He skid to a halt, his breath coming out in short bursts of vapor in the cool air, the rain cold against his face. The neighborhood he was in was quiet, lights coming from living rooms all around him. It somehow made him feel more isolated than before, trapped outside of it all. He spun in circles, searching but nothing seemed amiss. Spooked, he’d turned around and jogged home, cutting his running time in half. The next morning, he’d walked into the bakery with rings under his eyes, having slept only a few hours. He paid for his coffee and stepped out onto the sidewalk, blowing into his boiling drink. 

“Hello.”

Tom started, coffee sloshing onto his wrist and he grimaced. Patting at his burned skin, he turned to the origin of the voice. Standing before him was the man from the week before, the man with his face. 

“It’s you,” Tom said and then blushed, feeling stupid for not returning the man’s simple greeting instead of voicing his obvious disbelief. 

The man chuckled and he clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, I remember you from before. I apologize for startling you.” He gestured to Tom’s hand. 

Tom looked down. “Oh, it’s alright. It’s nothing.” He cleared his throat and looked at the man again, his eyes impossibly green. “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”

The man smiled. “No, Thomas. You would have remembered it. Here, allow me.” He reached across the short space between them and touched two of his fingers to Tom’s burned skin. The sting immediately receded and before Tom’s very eyes, the angry red burn faded away. Tom paled, eyes wide and mouth slack. He turned his stunned gaze back to the man, who was slowly backing away, that mysterious smile on his lips. 

“Wait,” he called. “You knew my name. What is yours?” Somehow he didn’t question how the man knew his name or that he’d healed his skin with a touch of his fingers. Somehow he knew this was whom he’d been waiting for all this time.

“My name is Loki,” the man said, bowing slightly and turning away. Tom watched him leave, his breath caught in his throat, heart pounding. 

A few days later, Tom spotted Loki in the courtyard outside his office window. Tom left his office and stepped outside, heading over to the shaded area Loki was standing in. They stared at each other for a few moments and then Tom spoke.

“This is all very strange.”

“Yes,” came Loki’s reply. Tom hesitated and then drew in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry but I feel as if I’ve been waiting for you.”

Something shifted in Loki’s face, a small relaxing of the muscles near his mouth and eyebrows. He looked relieved, as if Tom confirmed something he’d been struggling with in his mind. He took a step closer to Tom and slowly reached his hand out, fingers wrapping around Tom’s wrist. Tom allowed him this, needing it just as much. 

As Loki opened his mouth to say something, Tom blurted out, “Let’s have dinner.”

Loki’s face revealed his surprise but a smile soon took over, expressing his approval. “As you wish, Thomas.”

And so it began. Tom slowly realized that Loki was very different. His ways and mannerisms, how he spoke, all pointed to a source not consistent with the human interaction Tom was accustomed to. Not to mention the overall mystery that was Loki, how he knew what Tom was thinking sometimes, his healing abilities. Tom took it all in stride as best he could. It was alarming, to say the least, especially when Loki would appear and disappear out of nowhere. But he relished in it, his excitement insurmountable in the face of what Loki was beginning to mean to him. Loki, when he spoke of himself, revealed his godlike status, his training in magic, and his exile from home. Self-induced, Tom would later find out. Loki had been punished for something unclear to Tom, he’d been released and he’d chosen earth, or as he called it ‘Midgard,’ to reside on, no longer wishing to exist on Asgard, his home planet, with his adoptive family, particularly his brother Thor, whose name escaped his lips with fury and no small amount of hurt. His mother seemed like the only person Loki missed, the only person he spoke of kindly and with affection. Tom didn’t wish to pry, trusting Loki to know the limits on his privacy. 

He wondered at their similar appearance, voicing his question to Loki one evening. Loki simply shook his head, saying, “I’ve thought the same, Thomas. But, if anything, the connection I felt as I embarked on my journey to find you was made all the more direct upon seeing you.” He brushed the back of his knuckles along Tom’s jaw, fascinated with how a blush bloomed up Tom’s neck to lay glowingly on his cheeks. 

As they became closer, Tom recognizing that Loki was a very physical being, his attention on Tom like fire. Their first kiss had been at South Bank, just after Loki had pulled the tulip from behind his ear. Loki, his lips like brands on Tom’s skin, absolutely loved touching Tom. 

Their first night together, Tom witnessed Loki’s vulnerability, his hesitation, his raw passion, how his heart opened up like a flower. He handled Tom gently, but his strength was nevertheless remarkable, pulling gasps from Tom’s mouth as he moaned for more, Loki’s fingers tight on his hips, his teeth wet on his neck, their chests moving together, Loki’s whispers brushing Tom’s ears. Wrapped in each other, Tom had never felt safer, never felt less alone. Loki’s small shivers when he came in Tom for the first time were like an exclamation to Tom, who held him close, their eyes closing together. 

They’d come so far. And somehow these dreams were tearing away at Loki, injuring him emotionally and psychologically. Tom wondered if they had to do with his imprisonment on Asgard, but would his family allow him to be tortured? Or was it something else? Tom rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. He’d been outside with Loki for almost an hour. Still, Loki slept. Tom sat in the silence, listening to Loki breathe, watching his shoulders rise and fall. He reclined his own seat and curled up in it, facing Loki. He reached over and placed his hand over Loki’s, closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me on this! I really appreciate all of the encouragement I've received. It means so much :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Tom have a bath and Tom asks Loki about Thor.

A while later, he floated back to consciousness when he felt fingers glide over his throat and curl behind his head. He opened his eyes and saw Loki’s face hovering above him, his body crowding the space in the front of the car. Tom blinked and smiled, giving in to the urge to stretch. His arms went high and his chest pushed out. He turned his head away and his neck cracked, a groan spilling from his lips. Loki watched all of this with open enthrallment, his fingers sliding down the front of Tom’s shirt. Tom relaxed against the seat again.

“You slept.”

“Yes.” Loki nodded, his eyes on the rise and fall of Tom’s chest, his leg creeping closer to Tom. “Thank you.”

Tom frowned. “What for, love?”

“For letting me sleep. For staying with me. I, on the other hand, couldn’t help myself. I just had to touch you.” Loki leaned down and began kissing the sprinkle of chest hair visible over the top button of Tom’s shirt.

“I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully.” He stifled a groan as Loki’s kisses spread to the hollow of his throat. Over Loki’s shoulder, he could see the sky darkening. “How long have we been out here?” 

“Long enough,” came Loki’s voice, his lips now trailing over Tom’s torso, his breath hot through the fabric of his shirt. Tom squirmed, his desire pooling low in his abdomen. 

“Loki, we can’t,” Tom breathed, all too aware of the car sitting in the driveway. Anyone could just walk by. 

Loki didn’t even slow his kisses. “Are you denying me, Thomas?” His hand slid over Tom’s thigh. Tom pressed his palm to Loki’s head, smoothing his black hair. 

“Never, my love. It’s just that—.” Gasp. “Someone might see us. It isn’t proper, darling.” Loki brought his head up, his pupils blown. 

“Alright, Thomas. But,” he kissed Tom’s cheek, his nose, his eyelids, “I’m desperate for you. I need you in me. Now.” 

Tom sat up. It was usually Loki who took Tom, who didn’t mind in the least. Tom preferred it that way. But like he assured Loki, he would never deny the god. Loki’s green eyes flitted over Tom’s face, his eyelids hooded with desire. 

“Take us inside,” said Tom, his voice hoarse with longing. He clutched Loki’s shirt as the god leaned close. Tom felt his magic surround him and a blink later, they were in the living room, sprawled on the couch. 

“The blinds.” Tom said from beneath Loki, sucking at Loki’s neck, fingers scrabbling to undo the buttons on his shirt. Loki cursed and with a wave of his arm, the blinds crashed closed, swaying violently to a stop. 

Loki held still above Tom, offering his neck to the blond, who continued to suck at the pale skin. “Thomas, please.” 

“What do you want, Loki.” They could switch the roles so easily, the submissive becoming the dominant. 

Loki reached low and palmed Tom’s erection. “This,” he hissed. Tom, sucking a bruise on Loki’s neck, moaned at his touch. “I just—.” Loki gasped when Tom added his teeth, tightening his grip on the back of the sofa and pushing his hips low. “Just take me please.”

“Take your clothes off,” Tom whispered. Loki climbed off of Tom and discarded his unbuttoned shirt. He unbuckled his jeans and slid them down. His boxers were next. Loki stood naked before Tom, his cock swollen. Tom slowly sat up, his eyes dancing up and down Loki’s body. “Go stand by the table, love.” Loki turned and walked from the living room into the dining room. He pushed stray papers away and bent over it, his cheek pressed to the cool wooden surface. He shivered when Tom trailed his fingers up his spine, over to the side of his ribs. He gasped and shifted. Tom knew how ticklish Loki was there. 

Loki didn’t need to be prepared. Lubricant appeared on Tom’s cock and in Loki’s entrance. All Tom needed to do was push in, which he did slowly, so that Loki’s breath was caught in his throat, his body on a gradual slide forward with every inch he took. 

“My darling,” Tom whispered, his voice low. Loki let out a low growl when Tom pulled back, his long fingers scratching at the table.

“I’ve got you, Loki. Stay still.” Tom’s voice was raspy as his hips started moving, knowing Loki was gentle with him but did not wish him to be the same with Loki. Tom started a quick rhythm, eventually putting all of his weight into his thrusts. The sound of their skin slapping together and Loki’s moans made sweat break out on Tom’s forehead. He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around Loki’s elbows, angling his arms backward, pulling him back as he thrust in. 

“Like this?” He grabbed a fistful of Loki’s hair with his right hand and pulled, Loki’s neck arching. “You like it rough? You like it when I fuck you hard?” His cock rammed into Loki, whose breath was caught in that splendidly long throat, held high by Tom’s hand.

Loki’s mouth opened as his eyes fluttered closed. “Yes,” he moaned. “Thomas, yes. Harder.” 

Tom held Loki in place by his elbow and hair, his thrusts fast and deep. The coiling in his abdomen started a slow fire in his veins. He pulled back slightly, wanting this to last, wanting to please Loki, who was so tight, so warm, so solid under him. He angled his hips so that he brushed Loki’s prostate with every plunge. Loki’s moans grew louder, his hips pushing back to meet Tom. Loki’s toes were barely brushing the floor as Tom pulled on Loki’s hair again, exposing his neck. 

On a hard thrust, he bit down, reaching around Loki and pumping his fist on Loki's neglected cock. Loki gasped with gritted teeth, his entire body clenching beneath Tom. Loki froze as his orgasm hit him, his cock spilling come onto the floor. A wave of lust and love rolled through Tom seeing Loki like this, face flushed, veins rising in his neck. After a few moments of suspended pleasure, Loki relaxed against the table, shivering as Tom continued his onslaught. Tom straightened. Seeing Loki’s hand snaking back toward him, he gripped his trembling fingers. He thrust three more times and came deep inside, a cry broken in his throat. He pushed through his orgasm, his come seeping out and down Loki’s thighs. 

His breath was tight in his chest. He rested his weight on Loki’s hips, arms shaking. Loki’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, but as Tom began to pull out, Loki squeezed his lower muscles, gripping at Tom’s cock.

“Oh god, Loki…,” Tom gasped, faltering, fingers tightening on Loki’s skin. Loki chuckled as Tom slipped out. Loki rose and they stepped into each other’s arms, Loki kissing Tom’s lips. 

“How about a bath?” Loki said. Tom nodded with a grin. 

A second later they materialized in the master bathroom, Tom losing his balance. Loki gripped his waist and steadied him.

Tom reddened and said with a small smile, “I can’t seem to get used to that, after all this time.”

“You’re perfect,” Loki said, rubbing his thumb over the corner of Tom’s mouth.

His blush deepened. “In my defense, you don’t do that very often.”

Loki’s smile faltered. “True. I try not to use my magic when I can avoid it. Small things here and there suffice. For now.” He turned from Tom and fiddled with the shower head. Tom frowned, confused. 

“Why are you limiting your magic?” He let himself be pulled into the tub by Loki, who tugged the shower curtain closed behind him. They stood under the spray of water, Loki’s arms encircling him. His lips roamed by Tom’s ear.

“It’s really not that important, my love.”

Tom, arms trapped between their chests, smoothed his fingers over Loki’s collar bones and leaned back to look at Loki. “Everything about you is important to me.” The skin around Loki’s eyes softened and he kissed the tip of Tom’s nose, pulling him in for a crushing hug. Tom gasped as his breath escaped him. He smiled and returned the hug as best he could.

“I’m ready for that bath now,” he said breathlessly when Loki let him go. He leaned down and pulled the metal lever, funneling all the water to the spout below. Loki bent and supported his weight on the lip of the tub, easing his long body down. He scooted back as Tom did the same, only his body was cradled between Loki’s legs, his upper body curled over Loki’s chest. He pressed his nose to Loki’s neck and hummed in contentment, wrapping his right arm around the other’s waist, cuddling closer. He relaxed when his hand found the spot where Loki’s heart beat the hardest. Around their bodies, the water level rose steadily until it reached Loki’s shoulders. He used his foot to stop the water and silence filled their steamy bubble of privacy. 

“The heat doesn’t bother you?” Tom whispered.

“No,” Loki whispered back. Tom’s fingers were drawing small designs on Loki’s chest, his thoughts on Loki and his sleeplessness, his dreams. He dreaded work on Monday, not wanting to leave Loki. We still have Sunday, he thought, pressing his cheek to Loki’s shoulder. 

“Darling,” Tom ventured hesitantly. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Thomas,” Loki said, his voice low. Tom recognized it as his sleepy voice and panicked slightly, not wanting Loki to fall asleep before what he planned to ask him. 

He cleared his throat. “Do you think that we might possibly find a solution to your nightmares from an outside source?”

Loki was running his hand over the water’s surface lazily. “How do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you would have used your magic to help yourself by now if you could.” He noticed Loki’s hand had stopped moving and he hurried on before he lost his nerve. “So if it’s something that is still plaguing you, as we both know, maybe perhaps, we could ask someone about it. Someone…not from here,” he finished quietly, holding his breath for Loki’s reaction. Loki’s hand dipped under the water and met Tom’s hand on his chest, fingers wrapping around his wrist. 

“It is pointless, Thomas. I can’t seek help from anyone.”

Tom leaned up on his arm. “Can’t? Or won’t.” Loki’s eyes narrowed. He cocked his head to the side and looked at Tom.

“To whom are you referring, my love?” 

Tom looked down and said, “I thought perhaps your mother might be able to help.” 

Loki was shaking his head. “Frigga’s magic is very limited and deals mainly with healing, not correcting mental traumas.” He held Tom’s wrist gently, rubbing his fingers on his sensitive skin. “And besides, I’m not in any way eager to resume contact with Asgard.”

Tom blinked, awareness dawning in his eyes. “That’s why you’re holding back with your magic.” Loki pursed his lips and flicked his gaze to Tom before looking away again. “Darling, can they track you by your magic?”

Loki leaned forward and whispered against Tom’s lips, “My clever love.” He sighed and relaxed his head back against the edge of the tub. “Heimdall will most likely have been tracking any large bursts of power. Magic leaves traces and if I were to perform a large enough spell or trick, he would recognize it and peer closer.” He smiled faintly. “I hold no ill will toward the great gatekeeper, but that is what he does. He peers closer.”

Tom bit on his bottom lip, thinking. Loki smirked. “What are you thinking, Thomas?”

Tom saw his chance and took it. “And what about Thor?”

Something flashed in Loki’s eyes and he made to sit up. “Thomas—.”

“Wait, Loki, wait,” Tom said, hastily sitting up on his knees and pushing Loki back down. Loki looked up at him, his mouth tight. The water sloshed around them but did not spill over the edge of the tub. Tom took a deep breath. “I know there is some bad history with you and your brother.”

“He is not my—.” 

“Loki.” Tom said his name quietly, but it silenced Loki nevertheless. “You never mention him, apart from that one time long ago. I don’t know what happened between the two of you.” The beginning of a sneer was forming on Loki’s lips. Tom leaned down and kissed him, wanting to take everything from him. 

Loki’s lips immediately molded to his and when Tom broke away, Loki’s eyes stayed closed, his hand on Tom’s face. 

Tom waited. Finally, Loki opened his eyes and said, “My brother is brute who knows nothing about what might possibly alleviate my plight. All he knows is how to wage war and drink mead and laugh uproariously at the most inane humor shared with his stupid friends.” Loki was sitting up and he rested his forehead against Tom’s chest. Tom soothed his shoulders. Loki raised his eyes and moved his hands from Tom’s lower back to his thighs, massaging gently. “I wish not to speak of this at the moment.” 

Tom sighed and nodded his head, knowing defeat when he saw it. “Alright, love. The water is cold. Let’s go to bed.” They stood in the tub, Loki helping Tom to his feet. They dried off with the same towel and unplugged the drain in the tub. Tom brushed his teeth. Loki, who leaned against the doorjamb watching him, had no need to. They fell into bed and Loki turned into Tom’s embrace, sighing against his neck. Tom thought about what Loki had said about Frigga, Thor and Heimdall. He needed to do some serious research. He faintly understood that most of these figures were prominent in Norse mythology. How the God of Mischief came to be lying in his arms that moment was mind blowing to him, but he welcomed, desired, and valued his presence. 

Loki shifted and then whispered, “If I wake up and appear to be very violent, please leave the room.” 

Tom tightened his embrace. “I won’t leave you. Ever.” 

Loki lifted his head. “My stubborn mortal.”

Tom nodded. “Yes, yours.” 

As they lay there, Loki’s body became slightly heavier when he drifted off to sleep. Tom’s mind was going a mile a minute. He lay still for another thirty minutes and when Loki didn’t appear to be experiencing the start of a nightmare, he slowly disentangled himself and stood. He picked up his laptop from the corner chair and walked out of the room, leaving the door ajar a few inches. He sat down cross-legged in the hall and powered up his computer. Once connected to his Wi-Fi signal, he started typing in the names Loki mentioned. Thor, the God of Thunder, did seem like an imposing figure, all muscle and leather bound body, a helm made of shining silver with wings. And the hammer he carried. Tom didn’t want to imagine the kind of destruction it could cause. He went on to search Heimdall and found out that he was indeed considered a gatekeeper of sorts for Asgard, keeping watch on possible threats. His judgment is usually taken as true and unbiased, and his knowledge of the other realms is extensive beyond all others. After a moment of hesitation, Tom typed in Loki’s name. The images that came up displayed a chaos-inducing, maniacally-laughing, self-involved character. Tom frowned and shook his head, seeing how grossly inaccurate these depictions were. Loki was nothing like this figure in mythology. If Loki was so incorrectly represented, could Thor be too? But Loki knew Thor the best, having grown up with him. Then again, whatever had transpired between the two could have tainted Loki’s telling of his brother. 

He was about to search Loki’s mother, Frigga, when he heard moans coming from the bedroom. He slapped his computer shut and jumped to his feet. He slipped into the room and placed his laptop on the chair he took it from. Loki was writhing under the blanket, his legs straight, arms lying stiffly over his head. Tom climbed on the bed and shuffled over to Loki. 

“I’m here. Please be still, love,” Tom whispered in his ear, running a hand along the side of Loki’s face. He tried to lift Loki onto his lap but the god was heavy and his body too stiff. It was like an iron rod was straightening Loki’s spine painfully. His hands, where they lay above his head, stretched up, fingers long and curled. On a whim, Tom stripped the bed of the blankets and flipped on the overhead ceiling fan. He opened the window and the cold night air burst in. Already shivering from how quickly the temperature dropped, Tom retreated to Loki’s side and folded himself along the god’s body. 

After several minutes, the pained moans coming from Loki were already quieting down. The sweat on his skin was cooling and his body was losing its stiffness. Tom felt Loki’s arms slide down and wrap around him. He raised his head to see if Loki was awake, but his eyes remained closed. With more strength than he would normally use, Loki curled toward Tom, pushing him until Loki was spread over Tom’s body, his face automatically buried in his neck. Tom lay on his back, his arms around Loki, glad that Loki was blocking most of the cold air. With a smile, he positioned himself as much as he could under Loki’s body and lost himself to a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my lack of sleep is the reason why sleep features so prominently in my story. I'm sorry. Again, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom decides to act on his impulse to help Loki, who is unaware of his plans.

Tom was floating somewhere. It was rather pleasant, this place. But he was distinctly aware of cold air sticking to his skin, like the first snowfall in London. It was bothersome, the cold. He curled into himself, not wanting to open his eyes, not now when he was so comfortable and feeling like he could sleep so much more. 

“Thomas.”

That voice. He knows it. Such a lovely voice. The timbre low and curling like smoke around his subconscious. A sudden warmth on his shoulder, like a hand, the fingers curving over his muscle. A gentle shake. 

“Thomas”

He smiled, for that voice was love, that voice was deep stirrings in the dark. Hunger and yearning. That voice was—.

“Thomas!”

Tom’s eyes sprang open, Loki’s name on his lips. He’s on his back in their bed, Loki looming above him. 

“Thomas, you’re freezing.”

Tom was immediately aware of the cold in the air and he remembered his motions through the room the previous night, leaving the window open, turning on the fan. Loki’s pained whispers quieting until he was sleeping undisturbed. He rubbed his eyes and noticed the blanket drawn tight around him. Loki must have picked it up from off the floor. He pulled it closer to him and snuggled up to Loki’s chest. Loki, still nude, was lying on his side atop the blanket, drawing Tom closer to him. 

“Yes, a bit. But I’ll be fine, darling.” His eyes were already closing when Loki spoke.

“Why did you do it? You could become ill.”

“Hmm. Maybe. Although you could just heal me.” Tom stilled, remembering Loki’s stipulation on his use of magic. “Or let me suffer through it. I don’t care. All I know is it made you feel better so that was the end of that.” He pushed his nose against the hollow of Loki’s throat and breathed in deeply.  
Loki ran his fingers across the back of Tom’s neck, giving Tom delicious chills that had nothing to do  
with the cold room. “It did? Was I dreaming again?”

Tom brought his head up. “You don’t remember it?”

Loki shook his head, his eyes on the wall behind Tom. “No. But I remember snow.” His eyes glazed over a bit and he smiled. “Such wonderful snow, my love. You should have seen it. Great fluffs of it, white flurries that caught in the wind and broke gently over my face.” 

Tom loved seeing him like this, unabashedly happy. Unguarded and open. He returned Loki’s smile. 

“Well, I definitely felt it.” Loki blinked and his eyes sharpened again. He turned his gaze to Tom. Tom tilted his head and said, “It makes me happy that you dreamed that. I can tell you really miss it.”

Loki was silent a moment. “I do, sometimes,” he said quietly. “But I find that I miss nothing at all when I am with you. You’ve taken what I had stored deep inside of me and interwoven yourself with it all.” He relaxed into the mattress. They were silent for a few moments. “You should have at least draped yourself with something, Thomas. And left me to my side of the bed. You were positively frozen when I woke up to you clinging to me.” Tom made a small noise from his cocoon of blankets. Loki reached down and brought Tom’s face up, gliding his thumb over the smooth skin of his cheekbones. “You were nearly blue from the cold, my love.”

Tom saw the look in Loki’s eyes, the pupils expanding, his lips parted just so, his grip on Tom’s face tightening by the tiniest fraction. Tom swallowed hard. He knew that look. His heart rate jumped and Loki’s breath hitched as if he heard it. Maybe he did. 

“Will you take the cold for me, Thomas?” His fingers were already fisting in Tom’s hair. Tom, whose body was loose and pliant within the blanket, his heat creating a bubble of warmth that was the perfect nest for his long limbs, nodded instantly. 

The window was still open, the fan still on. He had only a second to brace himself before Loki was moving. Tufts of cold air struck his face and body as Loki snatched the blanket away. He gasped at the suddenness of it, goose bumps sprouting over every inch of his skin. Guiding Tom with his hand still clutched in his hair, Loki pulled him over to the middle of the bed and rested on his knees between Tom’s legs. Tom’s body was flushed, his skin pink around his chest and throat, his cheeks warm despite the cold. He couldn’t stop his shivering, the way his teeth chattered unbidden. 

Loki ran his hands over Tom’s knees and he groaned when Tom’s fingers gripped at the bed sheet. “Yes,” he breathed, watching with wide eyes as Tom’s fingers moved from the sheet to his flat stomach, fluttering over the taut skin. “Touch yourself, Thomas.” Tom, living only for the hunger in Loki’s eyes, widened his legs and glided his trembling hands to the center of his body, moaning as his blood pooled hotly there, the contrast stark to the cold around him. Loki’s voice was low, near a growl as he urged Tom along. “Take yourself in hand, Thomas.” His grip on Tom’s knees tightened as Tom gripped his growing erection, stroking himself to full hardness. Loki’s cock was up and dripping.

“Loki, I love you.” Tom swallowed and arched his neck, closing his eyes as he pleasured himself. “This cold is you. It’s everywhere and I love it. I love you and I love it.” His mind was swimming and he struggled to keep his thoughts from racing away but Loki was above him, eyes dark and glinting, his fingers on Tom’s skin like strokes of lightning. He couldn’t help the movement in his hips or the way his feet inched their way closer to Loki’s legs, lifting and anchoring behind his thighs, his ankles locked, pulling Loki to him. Loki propped himself up with two hands on either side of Tom’s head and kissed him, his lips somehow hot and cold, or was it Tom who couldn’t tell the difference? He didn’t know. All he knew was that Loki was a blazing, freezing force on top of him and he couldn’t get him as close as he desired. 

“Please, Loki,” Tom gasped, raising his head and looking down at where Loki was rubbing his cock against Tom’s. 

Not needing further encouragement, Loki leaned back and grabbed Tom by his hips, flipping him quickly. Tom landed on his stomach with a soft bounce, his cheek pressed to the sheet warm from his body. He angled his buttocks up when he felt Loki’s fingers pressing and searching.

“Look at you. My wanton love.” He took a minute to stretch Tom, who gasped and whined, fingers clawing at the sheet. “You are mine, Thomas.”

“Yes, yours,” Tom sobbed, his eyes shut tight. He felt the head of Loki’s cock at his entrance and thrust his hips back, desperate. Loki slid in halfway and they both groaned at the suddenness of it. 

Tom yelped when Loki’s palm came down on Tom’s ass, the red mark flaring in the cold air. “You impatient minx.” He groaned as he sank the rest of the way in. “But you will have it, you will take it, Thomas. Yes?” He set a fast pace as Tom gasped his approval. Loki leaned forward until Tom was pressed flat to the mattress. He draped his long body over Tom’s and continued thrusting, his weight braced on his arms by Tom’s head. “You are mine. Mine,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing Tom’s temple. He wrapped his arm under Tom’s neck and pulled back gently, Tom moaning, “Yes, yes,” with every slap of Loki’s hips. 

Tom squirmed every time Loki’s cock brushed his prostate. The slight asphyxiation caused by Loki’s arm and his movement against the sheet had Tom nearing the edge faster than usual. “Loki, I’m going to—“

“No, Thomas, not yet.” Tom felt a warm sensation at the base of his cock and realized that Loki had used magic to prevent him from coming. His legs started trembling and tears pricked at his eyes, but he nodded breathlessly and angled his hips up for more. 

Loki’s lips kissed the corner of his eye. “Such beautiful tears. Let them fall, pet.” Tom blinked and a choked sob escaped his throat, tears cascading down his cheeks. The pleasure was overwhelming and Tom struggled with his arms trapped at his sides, Loki’s weight pinning him. “Hold still for me.” Loki’s command was quiet and Tom clutched the sheet, his sight blurred. 

“Loki…” he breathed, and something in his plea triggered a growl in Loki, who pushed up on his knees, his hands on the small of Tom’s back, gripping hard and holding him still. His pace quickened, head thrown back, mouth slightly open. With another growl, he came in Tom, his cock pulsing. He pushed through his orgasm, trembling from the force of it, his seed spilling out. Tom whimpered beneath him, his lower back red from Loki’s hand prints. He stared down at his lover, tense and red, glorious tears leaking from his face, Loki’s name like a litany on his lips. His heart swelled and he couldn’t resist bending down and kissing the sharp curve of Tom’s cheek. He pulled out carefully and then flipped Tom, who groaned and immediately spread his legs. His blue eyes were wide and he was already reaching up for Loki, who bent low, his face just above Tom’s swollen and neglected cock. As soon as Tom felt the warm ring around his cock disappear, his was thrusting up into Loki’s waiting mouth, his fingers wrapping into the dark hair. He threw his head back, the warmth of Loki’s mouth and the way he hummed around his aching cock made his blood turn to fire. His hips jutted upward, Loki deep-throating him, his green eyes locked on Tom’s writhing form. Tom’s fingers tightened on Loki’s head as he came, shooting his come down Loki’s throat, his breath caught somewhere in his lungs, refusing to come out. Tom’s hands slipped away as he collapsed to the bed. Loki continued to lap at his 

cock, swallowing all that Tom gave him.

“Breathe, Thomas.”

Tom, spots appearing before his eyes, opened his mouth and dragged in a lungful of air, still floating from his orgasm. Tiny tremors rolled through his body and his hands shook but he couldn’t open his eyes. He felt the blanket being draped over him and that made him shake all the harder. Loki wrapped his arms around Tom, twining their legs together, rolling Tom and pressing him to his chest.

“I’m here, Thomas. I’m here.” Tom was vaguely aware that he had been mumbling. He cuddled as close to Loki as he could get before everything went dark. 

When Tom awoke, the room was bright. He peeked his head out, sensing it must be around noon. Loki was not in the room, but the fan was off and the window was closed and he was bound in the blanket like a mummy. He shifted and winced slightly, his bottom a little sore from Loki’s lovemaking. He lay there and opened his ears to the sounds of the flat. All was quiet. Had Loki gone out? Tom slipped from the covers and put on some pajama bottoms and one of Loki’s shirts from the floor. His feet padded quietly on the smooth wood floors. He opened the bedroom door and called down the hall, “Loki?” No answer. He frowned. It was unusual for the god to go out on his own, not appreciating the presence of other people in general. He walked over to the window and looked out. There, in the corner of the back yard stood Loki, his skin blue and grooved with designs from some archaic language. Tom leaned against the window frame, watching as Loki reached up and snapped a twig from the leaf-less tree. Tom had only seen Loki like this once before, just after he’d spied him from the window that night long ago when Loki had knelt on the freezing ground, his eyes up at the moon. Tom had been alarmed but not frightened when he met Loki coming back in. He’d taken his time tracing the markings on Loki’s skin, dark red eyes following his movements. But the coldness of Loki’s skin became too much and he’d reluctantly dropped his hands. His skin was tougher in that form, thicker. 

“Do you prefer it this way?” he’d whispered. Loki shook his head.

“I do not care either way. I prefer you in every capacity; my form is of no consequence.” When Tom still looked unconvinced, Loki smiled and his skin rippled right before Tom’s eyes, the blue giving way to milk white skin, the red receding until green eyes stared back at him.

Now, he watched Loki beneath the tree. Watched as he whispered soft words to the small branch he’d broken off, watched as tiny leaves and pink blossoms sprouted from the dead wood. And then Loki’s red eyes were on him, white teeth flashing as he smiled up at him. 

Tom made them a late lunch. He was a bit nervous and he hoped Loki wouldn’t pick up on it. Loki was very receptive to Tom’s emotions, but this was one time Tom felt he needed to keep what he was thinking to himself, and even that felt like a tremendous deception to him and he didn’t know if he could do it.

He’d thought of it while watching Loki through the window. What he’d read on Heimdall gave him the impression that he was all-seeing. This is why Loki was curbing his use of magic. Heimdall would see. It couldn’t be that Loki was being hunted by the Asgardians. He’d told Tom that his imprisonment was concluded and it had been his wish to leave Asgard of his own volition. Tom didn’t think it would bring any harm if maybe he reached out, took that first step, without Loki knowing. He needed answers. He needed Loki to be alright. 

Tom started when he heard the back door open. Loki stepped in, blue skin already fading, the cold clinging to his now pale flesh. 

“It is beautiful outside, Thomas.”

“Are you hungry?” 

Loki slid up next to him, wrapping his arms around Tom from behind, nuzzling his neck with cold lips. “For you, yes.”

Tom squirmed out of his embrace, smiling as he grabbed their plates in his hands. “Oh, no you don’t. I was plenty cold this morning when you decided to have your way with me. Now, we eat.”

He settled in at the table, Loki following in all his silence. They ate and Tom read the morning paper, sipping coffee. Loki slid his foot into the smooth groove of Tom’s instep and he kept it there for the remainder of the meal. 

“Darling,” Tom said when they were finished. “I think you should try to sleep some more today.” Loki raised his eyes at him but said nothing. “I know you slept for a bit last night, but I would feel more comfortable if you weren’t tired tomorrow while I’m at work.”

“You think I will fall asleep against my will?”

“No, but I do know what sleep deprivation feels like and it can be sudden, the urge to sleep.”

Loki stayed quiet. Then, “Alright, Thomas. I will try.”

Tom smiled gratefully. “Thank you, love. Are you tired now?” 

Loki narrowed his eyes fractionally and Tom hurried to say something. “Now that I’m here, you can sleep and I can go to you if you need me.”

“Thomas, the fact that you would be so readily available to me while I am in a state that can be potentially dangerous to you is what unnerves me.”

“You’ve never hurt me.”

Loki’s eyes widened, his eyes immediately dropping to Tom’s neck, smooth and clear after his healing spell in the car.

Tom sighed. “You know what I mean.” He stood and gathered their dishes. “I’m going to shower now. You left me in somewhat of a state this morning.” He winked at Loki as he deposited the dishes in the sink. He would wash them later.

The water was hot and he emerged from the shower with pink skin. He dried his body and tied the towel around his waist. He turned off the light and stepped into the bedroom, stopping still just inside the doorway. Loki was spread across the bed, Tom’s pillow curled into his midsection, fast asleep. Tom tiptoed close and peered down. Loki was breathing softly, his face buried in Tom’s pillow. He wore nothing but boxers. Tom saw that Loki must have turned the fan on before falling asleep. 

Tom straightened. He would wait thirty minutes and then try what he’d been thinking of all morning. Quietly, he dressed in simple blue jeans with a white shirt beneath a black sweater that had a V-neck that Tom could zip up when necessary. He laced up some black sneakers and went into the kitchen to clean up. 

When he walked in, he saw the Loki had washed all the dishes and cleaned the counters and sorted the table items. 

“My love,” Tom whispered into the room, tracing his fingertips over the spotless counter top.

He checked his watch. Only fifteen minutes had passed. Checking on Loki one more time, he itched with wanting to drape Loki with a blanket but knew Loki would become uncomfortable. He brushed a strand of black hair from his forehead and whispered, “I’ll return shortly.”

He raced out the backdoor and stood in the yard, wondering how silly he must appear to anyone looking. But of course no one would be looking. He had large trees bordering the back property and no one would want to be out in this cold weather anyway. He looked up and squinted, the sky made brighter by the sleet grey clouds pressing in on one another. Small flakes of snow began falling and gathering on the hard earth beneath his feet. 

“Uh…” he said, unsure of how to start. He figured just saying the name once should suffice, but he wasn’t at all positive of how any of this worked.

“Heimdall?” he whispered, ending like a question. Clearing his throat, he said it more clearly, “Heimdall!” His shout left his mouth and then the strangest thing happened. Instead of echoing outward into the yard, his voice bounced back, as if hitting some kind of barrier. All was deadly silent. Tom looked up at the house where he knew Loki was sleeping and his desire to be next to him was monumental. He took a step toward the house, feeling foolish, when his foot hit solid air. 

“What,” he said, staring down at where his shoe was toeing something solid, something unseen. He backed up and put his arms up, feeling all around. He was in some sort of invisible cube. In the space of a second, Tom felt his entire body become weightless until finally, abruptly, he was hauled upward and into pure light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so sorry for the delay! I am working on another story but I was able to finish chapter 6 today. Thanks for sticking with it :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom receives guidance from an unexpected source.

Tom recognized that he was falling. But how could that be? He’d been taken up, right? He struggled to breathe through his nose. It wasn’t easy. Air was moving past him at blinding speeds, or was he moving? He had to be the one moving. And the colors. Too many to pinpoint. He closed his eyes to them, cringing. A moment later, he collided with something solid. He lay sprawled on the cleanest gold floor he’d ever seen, stunning and moving like a mirage. I’ve crash landed, he thought, a tiny trickle of laughter spilling from his throat. He bent his forehead to the floor and coughed, expelling pent up air in his lungs, near bursting. A twisting, cramping feeling in his stomach made him want to be sick, but he held it back.

“Rise.”

Tom whipped his head up and scrambled to a sitting position, his legs tense, ready to flee. But he was so tired. His eyelids drooped. 

“Where am I?”

The man in front of him was unlike any he’d ever encountered before. A giant. Decorated in shining plates of golden steel, a near match to the color of the floor. He was standing above Tom on an elevated landing in the center of the room. His skin was like dark chocolate and his eyes, good god. His eyes were like burning embers, glowing. On his head was a helmet with blunted points, like small stout horns. Tom shifted back a little. 

“This is the Bifrost. More specifically, you are on Asgard.”

His voice reminded Tom of gold. Gold and more gold. Molten and smooth. Everything gold. Tom winced as he climbed to his feet, his limbs feeling battered. “Asgard?” he breathed, his voice failing him.

“I do apologize. The trip is never smooth for those who embark on it for the first time.”

“You’re Heimdall.”

The giant man bowed slightly in acknowledgment, but said nothing. Tom eyed the sword held point down in front of Heimdall, the silver gleaming, obviously sharp. 

“And you are Prince Loki’s mortal. My queen is very interested in you.”

Tom’s eyebrows rose. “Queen?”

Heimdall nodded silently again. “We have been awaiting you. The dreams are getting worse.”

Tom took a step forward. “Can you see him? Loki? Is he alright? Has he awakened? Is he in pain? How long have I been gone? Is he alright?”

A small smile appeared on the Gatekeeper’s face. “The prince sleeps. There are no dreams as of yet. Now come. The queen awaits you.” Without waiting for Tom, Heimdall turned and walked off the raised dais and stopped near an opening on the far side of the room. Tom gawked at the view, wide eyes taking in the shimmering bridge of multi-colored glass. And far beyond that, the rising towers and structures of Asgard, Loki’s home. A figure on a horse appeared on the horizon. At his side, the person led a second horse by a thin rope. 

“I am not to leave my post. There must always be a watcher. But this soldier will accompany you to the queen’s chambers. No one knows of your presence here, apart from my queen, this soldier, and myself.  
You will be safe. And I will see to it that you are returned to me.”

Tom looked up at Heimdall, into his burning eyes. He didn’t feel any danger coming from the great Gatekeeper, but going into the city alone was another matter entirely. He was gripped by the strongest urge to be near Loki. The span of what seemed like space itself between he and the god nearly overwhelmed Tom and he leaned forward to clasp his knees. The stress of his journey here and his distance from Loki made his vision swim. He swallowed his nausea, gasping for air, pressing a hand to his chest. Just before collapsing, he felt iron-steeled arms catching him before all went dark.

Small droplets of water sounded somewhere. The warmth around him was full but not unpleasant. He turned over and reached a hand out, seeking out Loki.

“He is not here.”

Tom’s eyes burst open at hearing a woman’s voice. He sat up and discovered he was lying on a clean bed in a high-ceilinged room, a bed chamber more like. A large fire glowed in an impressive fireplace, casting shadows to flicker on the walls covered by large animal skins. A woman stood just before the hearth, her height making her all the more beautiful, in his opinion. She smiled at him, her kind eyes crinkling slightly in the corners. Her long blonde hair was curled and plaited, hanging gently over her left shoulder. She clasped her hands in front of her and took a few measured steps in his direction. 

“Please do not be afraid. I am Frigga. I hope the heat does not bother you. It helps with healing, you see.”

Tom nodded, understanding dawning on his face. “You are Loki’s mother.”

She smiled again and nodded. Closing the distance between them, she sat on the edge of the bed and slowly raised a hand to his face, caressing his brow. “Heimdall was right. You are Loki’s near mirror image. If not for the obvious differences, I would have mistaken you for my son.” She let her slim fingers rise and brush through his blondish curls and then down to softly stroke at the stubble growing along his jaw. He closed his eyes at her gentle touch. She peered close, her face mere inches from his. “I see my son in your eyes, in your heart. You love him very much.”

“I do,” he breathed, not blinking. Her eyes were a startling blue, depthless. He missed Loki terribly, here in this room with his mother. It was an ache in his limbs. 

“And he loves you,” she replied, cupping his cheek. “His mark on you is alarming.”

“Mark?” Tom frowned as she stood. He quickly moved to plant his feet on the floor, but remained seated, not feeling entirely steady. 

“He has claimed you, Thomas. And quite strongly.”

Tom blinked and looked down at himself, expecting to see bright lights or something. She laughed quietly, delighted. She held out a hand to him and he took it, rising to stand beside her. “They are not visible to you or many others, for that matter. Only we who are familiar with this magic can see them.”

Looking down, Tom didn’t know what to say.

“This doesn’t bother you? This claiming?” Frigga studied his face.

He shook his head. “No. I am his. Wholeheartedly.”

She smiled, pleased with his answer. “Good. Then I do believe you are the one to help my son.”

She released his hands and turned from him, walking to the other side of the room and began setting aside small vials of powders and herbs. Her worktable was full of such items, but everything seemed organized and in its place. To her left, a small metal spout protruded from the wall and it is from here that she collected water into a bowl.

Tom walked closer, curious. He took the opportunity to look around the room. Besides the bed, her worktable, and chairs before the fireplace, the room was bare. Nearing the window, he looked out at the cityscape below him. It was nighttime in Asgard and he again wondered how much time had passed. Would Loki wake to find him not there? Was he dreaming now?

“You are troubled.”

Tom turned to see Frigga grinding some roots. She placed the crushed powders into the bowl of water.

“I miss him.” 

She stopped her motions and peered at him, her eyes soft with understanding. “As do I." She sighed. "My darling boy.” She glanced down wistfully and touched the crushed powder absentmindedly. “He came to me when he made his decision to leave. It is my understanding that I was the only one he told. Not Thor. Not his fa--. Not Odin.”

Thor. Tom had completely forgotten about Loki’s brother. He cleared his throat. “Is…Is Thor here?”  
Frigga had continued on with her preparations and nodded while she ground some herbs to dust. “He is here. He is busy with his father. No one knows of your presence here, apart from Heimdall.” She smiled. “He knows all.”

“And what is this you’re making?”

Frigga gathered the remaining piles of dust and dropped them into the bowl of water. With a wooden spoon, she began mixing the contents. Almost immediately, the water in the bowl went from cloudy to completely clear. Tom stared, amazed by what he was witnessing.

“This is a sleeping potion. But not any ordinary sleeping potion.” Tom nodded, not fully comprehending. “This will allow the person drinking it to slip into the dreams of the person sleeping next to them.” She poured the concoction into a glass vial and stoppered it with a small bit of cork. She walked around the table and stopped just in front of Tom. “I have designed it specifically with you in mind.” She paused. “My son is full of bravery and strength, intelligence and laughter. But as of late, he’s not laughed as often as I wish he would.”

Tom frowned and she said, “I’ve asked Heimdall to watch Loki and report back to me. I’ve always known where my son was, even if he wished for it to not be so.”

Tom blushed regardless, wondering if Heimdall had seen him and Loki in their more intimate moments. Frigga, sensing his embarrassment, cupped his cheek lovingly and smiled. “My son found you and you belong to each other. There is nothing more beautiful than that. Do not worry. Those moments are only known to you and Loki.” She looked deep into his eyes and sighed quietly. “However, what Loki endured outside of this realm is still a mystery to me. It is by far the worst pain I’ve felt in another being. While his strength and courage do not flag at any other time, what was done to him has left him afraid. And that is no easy feat. He struggles with it, alone in his mind. If you wish to help him, you must take this just before bed and sleep beside him. What he uses to save others, to protect others, he cannot use on himself. They have taken that from him.”

She held the vial out to him and he took it, fingers curling around the warm glass. 

“I can’t tell him about this, can I?”

“It would be best not to. Loki may seem secretive, but he is only being cautious. With you, it’s different. He is fiercely protective of you. He loves you very much and he will not take kindly to you attempting to save him from something even he can’t control.” She smiled knowingly. “But he is unlike other men. He may read it off of you before you know it. Tread carefully.”

Tom nodded, knowing she was right. He didn’t know how he would keep this from Loki. But he had to. He intended to. 

“It has been my sincerest pleasure to meet you, Thomas. You have been chosen by my son and it gives me peace that he is loved and not alone.” She smoothed his sweater maternally for a moment. “I would see my son returned here, if at least to visit his mother again. If and when that happens, please join him, Thomas.”

Tom smiled and promised he would try, unsure of how Loki would react to such arrangements. 

“You must go now. Keep the vial safe on the journey back.” She led him to a large pelt next to the fireplace and pulled it aside, astonishing Tom with the entrance to a darkened tunnel. “At the end of this passage, the same guard will be waiting for you. He will take you to Heimdall, who will return you to your home and to Loki.” She took his hands in hers and kissed his cheek. “Until we meet again, Thomas. Farewell.”

“Farewell. And thank you. I hope I don’t let you down.”

“You won’t.” 

He stepped into the passage, only looking back to see Frigga wave at him, slowly letting the pelt fall to a close. He collected himself and took a deep breath. Continuing down the passage, Tom slowly gained his bearings. A light appeared ahead and slowly, the figure of the soldier from the bridge appeared before him.

“This way, please.”

They walked along a dark and moist cavern-like passage. Tom had to bend forward a bit to avoid hitting his head. Out of a cracked exit, they came upon the outer castle, where two horses stood waiting patiently. Tom approached his horse with open trepidation.

“Have you ever ridden before, my lord?”

Tom nearly tripped at being called a lord, but the magnificent beast before him brought him to his senses. “Uh, no. Actually never.”

“Would you like assistance, my lord?”

Determined, Tom thanked the guard, but politely declined. He’d seen people get on horseback in films before. Didn’t seem that difficult. He grabbed the pommel with his right hand and steadied himself with his left. He placed his right foot in the stirrup and lifted himself. Throwing his leg over the animal’s back made his equilibrium slip and he leaned forward, hugging the horse’s long neck. He breathed deeply for a few moments, not at all embarrassed that the guard witnessed this, only happy to be alive. The great brown horse reminded Tom of Loki in a way, each powerful and magnanimous in their own way, each keeping their strength in check for the benefit of those around them. Tom desperately needed to get back to Loki. 

The horse danced a few steps while Tom settled in, but calmly followed the guard’s horse as he began to lead the way. Holding tightly to the reins, Tom reminded himself to relax his legs. He was squeezing the horse’s midsection with his thigh muscles and the burning in his limbs was something he only usually felt when he ran. Tom’s horse was so well trained that he didn’t have to direct it at all. They trotted down the expanse of the glittering bridge, heading to the giant golden dome where he knew Heimdall awaited them. This entire event was a like a maelstrom in Tom’s mind. He struggled to grasp the meaning of it all, especially his interaction with Frigga, Loki’s mother. She missed him. From Tom had understood about the way Loki told him stories of his childhood, he missed her too. So why the separation? Tom believed it had nothing to do with wanting to be separate from his mother and everything to do with wanting to be separate from Thor and Odin. The risk outweighed the longing.  
Heimdall stood tall at the entrance to the Bifrost, the great sword held in place before him. Tom stepped down from the saddle very carefully, not wanting to explain any mysterious injuries to Loki. 

“It would be wise to make haste. We have unexpected company.”

Tom stiffened at that and was immediately aware of thunder in the distance. Behind Heimdall, Tom could perceive the swirling vortex that was his way home. Loki was at the end of that tunnel of terror and behind him approached his formidable brother. 

“No hesitation works best. The prince stirs.” 

That snapped Tom out of his frozen fear. He looked up at Heimdall, into those golden eyes that had measured and taken record of all of the histories in the universe and knew that Heimdall would never let his return to earth be interrupted.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He ran around the raised dais in the center of the room and was nearly at the threshold when a booming voice stopped him.

“Halt!”

He couldn’t stop himself. He turned. Standing just behind a front-facing Heimdall was a man just as tall as the giant Gatekeeper. The man, with shoulder length blonde hair intertwined with a handful of tiny braids clasped in silver, was staring at Tom with open shock on his face, bright blue eyes wide with disbelief. In his hand was a hammer of dark tainted forged silver, pointing directly at Tom’s chest. This had to be Thor. Tom knew the distance from where he stood to where Thor was planted just outside the open doorway would be nothing to the speed of that hammer. Tom couldn’t wait anymore. Heimdall had said Loki was waking and he would brave Thor’s wrath to be at his side when he did. 

Thor’s choked gasp of “Loki! Wait!” twisted Tom’s heart as he turned and, after pressing a hand to the vial safely tucked into the pocket of his jeans, plunged into the revolving cyclone of colors that would take him home. 

He did better with his breathing this time. He kept his eyes closed and his lips loose as he sped through what seemed like time itself. He landed squarely on all fours, the frozen ground cold and compact beneath his bruised palms. He held himself up and patted his pocket to make sure the vial had survived the trip. He coughed and lurched to his feet after a few trembling moments and stumbled into the house. Skidding into the kitchen, Tom dropped the vial containing the sleeping potion into the jar for the flour. He scooped flour around until the vial was hidden. The water from the sink faucet felt cool on his fingers as he washed his hands, grounding him in the here and now. Once his hands were dry he ran from the kitchen. He pushed his way down the hall and stood for a moment outside the closed door to collect himself. He patted down his jeans and sweater, imagining stardust and dirt stains where there were none. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside the bedroom. 

Loki was a curled lump of smooth pale skin in the dark room. His black hair was fanned out on Tom’s pillow. Tom slipped his shoes off and crept closer to the bed, sliding in beside Loki, who immediately leaned in against Tom, wrapping his arms around his waist, nose pressing against his throat. 

“Darling, did you sleep well?”

Loki was nodding, purring contentedly, when suddenly he froze. His arms around Tom’s back clenched, effectively pulling Tom closer against him and making Tom’s chances of squirming away zero to none. He pressed his nose more solidly against Tom’s skin and breathed in deeply. Worry began to pool in Tom’s belly, sensing that Loki had just figured something out.

“Thomas,” Loki said, his whisper quiet and tight. 

“Y-yes, Loki?” 

Loki pulled back just enough to look into Tom’s eyes, green eyes narrowed and searching. His voice, quiet and furious, “Where in the Nine Realms have you been?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom confesses where he went.

Loki was slowly rising and there was something predatory in his stance that made Tom’s heart jump a beat. 

“Loki, wait.”

Loki’s hands were curling around Tom’s biceps and he felt himself being lifted from the bed to a kneeling position. He was face to face with Loki, whose jaw was clenched, nostrils flaring slightly. Tom stupidly thought of that damn horse on Asgard. He was witnessing his own magnificent creature check his power before his very eyes.

“Let me ex—.”

“Did they take you? Were you taken? Are you hurt?”

“What? No, Loki, please.”

Loki’s pupils were completely blown and his body was rigid. He kept glancing around the room, his hands never leaving Tom’s arms. Turning back to Tom, he said, “I can smell it on you. Asgard. The vortex. The Bifrost. When did it happen!” His shout was not entirely uncalled for but Tom closed his eyes nevertheless, gripping Loki’s elbows. He couldn’t lie to him, he couldn’t. But he would try to keep the most important part of it to himself.

“I wasn’t taken. I called for Heimdall.”

With his eyes closed, Tom couldn’t see Loki’s face but he felt his fingers tighten on his arms and then slowly fall away. He looked up to see Loki climbing off the bed. Tom scrambled after him. 

“Loki, please. Let me explain.”

Loki raised a finger and Tom immediately stopped speaking. Loki walked over to the window and peered out. His nude body was tense and stunning, the muscles long and lean, ready to pounce. 

Tom put his hands on his hips. “No one is out there.”

Loki turned and stalked to Tom, who held his ground. Loki’s hands were on his arms again. “Why would you do it? Why! I never wanted you near that place. Your place isn’t there, it’s here—.”

“With you,” Tom whispered. Loki blinked and stepped back, his breathing hitched. “I belong with you, Loki. But I can’t take another day of your suffering and my inability to help you!” Loki dropped his hands. Tom sighed. “You were frozen with fear in that car yesterday. Whatever was being done to you was only in your head and I can’t help you there. I can only hold you and that’s not enough.”

Loki closed his eyes. “That is all I need.”

“Not me!” Tom surprised himself, but his outburst had been boiling just beneath his skin. “That is not enough for me, Loki. I love you and I can’t help you. Do you see how frustrating that is for me?” 

Loki turned around and rubbed his hand over his face. “This is not for you to worry about, Thomas. And besides, you do help me. I can hear you sometimes, feel you. It helps with what is being done to me. It makes it bearable!”

Tom swallowed and stared down at the ground. Loki continued, “These irritating dreams will go away in time.”

Tom scoffed. “Go away? Perhaps you haven’t realized but they are getting worse and more frequent. I think I can help you, Loki.”

At that, Loki’s gaze snapped to Tom’s and he shrugged nonchalantly. “Forget that. Tell me everything. Who did you see? Heimdall? Anyone else?”

This was going to be harder than Tom thought. Loki was the master of changing the subject and right now he was fixated on Tom’s trip to Asgard and failing at portraying an air of nonchalance. He was desperate to know. Tom took a seat on the edge of the bed, fully aware of Loki’s towering form just a few feet away. 

“Yes, Heimdall.”

“Who else?” Loki was leaning toward him, motioning with his hand for him to continue. 

“Look, it’s not important. I’m back and that’s what—.”

In the blink of an eye Loki was kneeling in front of him. His hands gripped at Tom’s thighs and they trembled. “Who else, Thomas?” His eyes were wide and he struggled to keep the emotion from his face. Tom raised a hand and tucked a few strands of black hair behind his ear. 

“Your mother.” Tom’s heart clenched at the sight of the tears that pooled so quickly in Loki’s green eyes. But he didn’t let them fall. They just quivered there as he stared wordlessly at Tom, mouth slightly agape, not believing.

“Frigga?” The word was breathed out, the cadence uncertain, his voice thick.

“Yes, my love. I spent some time with her. I wish I didn’t have to leave but then Heimdall urged me along just as Thor appeared and –.”

Loki’s face hardened immediately, his brows low, his lips a thin line. And a single tear fell then, tracking down his sharp cheekbone, falling off the edge of his jaw. “Thor?”

“Yes but—.”

Tom didn’t get a chance to finish. Loki was there one moment and gone the next. Vanished. Tom fell forward, Loki’s sudden disappearance upsetting his balance. 

He jumped up and spun around. “Loki, no!” He had never departed without warning before. “Please.” His plea echoed low in the empty room. He sat back down and ran his hands through his curls. Loki might still be in the room. Or he might he miles, leagues, countries away. But the vial was safe, even though Loki was gone. He wouldn’t be able to use it until Loki returned and he couldn’t know when that would be. Tom had a feeling that the god would not stray far from home. The only option was to wait him out. He would return when he was ready.

***

Desperate for something to do, Tom went for a run. The London evening was cool but the air was light. He pushed himself, reveling in the feel of the pavement beneath his sneakers, the burn in his chest, the flex of his muscles. He stopped after five miles, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He circled back home at a slow walk. The house was still vacant. He showered and skipped dinner, not particularly hungry. He didn’t want to face the empty bed but he had work in the morning. Sleep would make the time pass faster between their separation. 

He tucked himself in and turned the television on. Out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. On Loki’s bedside drawer, the red ball Loki got from the store was placed next to the lamp. Tom smiled, remembering how much Loki loved the bouncing lights. He turned back to the television and flipped it to a mindless sitcom. He nodded off sometime after, waking up to a cramp in his neck and a dark room. 

The television was off. 

Tom tried not to look as excited as he felt, but this might be a sign that Loki was still here, only just not visible to him. He could be in the room at that very moment. Still, the bed felt vast without Loki’s long body beside him. 

He settled into the mattress and turned to face Loki’s side of the bed. He pulled Loki’s pillow close and curled himself around it. “I love you,” he said into the fabric, hoping someone was listening, before closing his eyes. 

***

In the morning, Loki still hadn’t returned. Tom searched for signs that the god had been in the house but nothing stood out to him. Just the television turning off the night before, and honestly he couldn’t remember if maybe he’d set the timer for it. He groaned quietly as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. He’d slept poorly, dreamt of things moving low in the dark, woke up a half dozen times reaching for Loki, hand waving over cold air. At one point, he found himself reaching for the flour jar to check that the vial was safe, but hesitated, not knowing if Loki was still here. He might see the vial and Tom's whole plan would be ruined. As tempting as that was, using the vial to force Loki to appear, he couldn't risk it. He ate a small bowl of cereal and stared out the kitchen window into the frozen yard. He couldn’t believe that he’d been taken and returned on that small patch of earth only yesterday. He’d been half afraid that Thor would follow him.

Tom frowned. Why hadn’t Thor followed him? He’d seemed shocked when he thought he was Loki, and had even shouted at him to wait. Why not just jump into the vortex after him?

The coffee machine beeped and pulled him from his thoughts. He rinsed his cereal bowl and prepared his coffee in a travel mug. At the door, he turned to face the open areas of the house, and that’s when he spotted it. The red ball was lying on the couch, stuck between two of the cushions. Tom’s breath let out silently, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Loki was still here. At least, part of the time. He stifled his smile and said nothing, closing the door behind him. 

Work was dismal. He created spreadsheets and met with clients, answered phones and returned messages. He went to the bakery where he’d first met Loki, but couldn’t order anything in the end and sat outside on the bench beneath one of the awnings, bundled up against the cold. Sometimes, Loki would meet Tom for lunch, waiting outside by the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard. Apart from that Loki stayed home and read, cooked dinner, ordered movies for when Tom got home. 

Tom leaned his head in his hands and breathed deeply. God, he missed him. And it hadn’t even been twenty four hours. 

A knock at the door roused him. His secretary, Emily, poked her head in. “Mr. Hiddleston? Your four o’clock appointment is here.”

He waved in her direction. “Please send them in.”

This last appointment stood between him and a house that Loki might be in. He put a smile on his face as his client was shown in.

And so several days passed. Tom sleeping with no rest, waking to no one, working and feigning interest. He went grocery shopping after the first week, despondent that the last time he came to the store Loki had been with him. But then that event in the car, Loki’s exhaustion. It made Tom worry. Was Loki sleeping, wherever he was? Was he suffering? Was he caught in a paralyzing terror with no one to comfort him? His ease at politeness became strained. His usual tendency to buoyant happiness was tempered by the constant worry about where Loki was, the tremendous disappointment he must feel in Tom. Tom became convinced he’d betrayed Loki and that alone kept him up at night, curbed his appetite. He ran every evening, had cereal for dinner. He never ventured into the backyard. 

***

At the end of the second week, Tom went to bed early Friday night, not bothering with the evening news. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

Several hours later, Tom was sure the thing running low to the ground was going to kill him. A small whimper broke from his throat and he turned his head on the pillow, eyes screwed tight. His hand searched and found nothing. He knew he was dreaming but he couldn’t bring himself out of it. Something slid by his feet and he gasped, his neck arching, fear pulsing hard under his skin. Tall grasses tickled his outstretched palms, but they were endless. He would never escape from it. “Please,” he said, only partially aware that he spoke aloud, the word ground out between gritted teeth. He struggled for a few panic-stricken moments, partially paralyzed in the semi-consciousness he found himself in.

And then suddenly a warmth, all along his body. He frowned, searching in his dream, wondering of the source. But he stilled instantly, weighed down by this warmth, familiar, his body relaxing beneath it. A tingling at his neck woke his brain and he opened his eyes, staring up at the dark ceiling. He was being held down, strong legs straddling his own, hands at his wrists and a mouth sucking a lazy bruise on his skin.

“Loki,” he gasped, not needing to see the person to simply know by weight, by strength, by determination, that it was the god holding him down. 

He tried to raise his arms to embrace Loki, but Loki simply squeezed harder, immobilizing him. 

“You’re back,” he said instead, tilting his head and trying to kiss him. Loki lifted his head and kept just out of reach, his mouth parted, pink tongue licking slowly the soft insides of his lips, savoring the taste of Tom’s skin. 

Wordlessly, Loki pressed down and ground his hips against Tom’s, the god’s full erection stunning and a blessed relief to Tom, whose moan caught in his throat. His own desire hung heavy between his legs, cock stirring. He tried to lift his lips but Loki nipped at his collar bone with a low growl. Wondering frantically if he had simply slipped from one dream to another, Tom tried arching his back to increase his contact with the god’s body, but Loki simply pulled away again. 

Huffing his own frustration, Tom fell limply back to the bed. Loki, still nude as the day he disappeared, stared down at him, obscured by the shadows in the room. 

“Oh, God,” Tom moaned, raising his head and looking down at where Loki continued to roll his hips against Tom’s, rutting dryly against his straining cock. “What…please, Loki, I’ve been dying to see you, to hold you. I don’t need this. We don’t have to do this. I just want you, please.” Tears gathered in his eyes and he tried to blink them away so they wouldn’t blur Loki’s form before him, but they spilled and rolled down his temples. Loki leaned down and kissed his tear tracks so gently, so lovingly, that a sob escaped Tom’s throat. He rubbed his cheek against Loki’s, desperate for Loki to look at him.

“Loki, I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed in me. I know you didn’t want me to go, but I had to do something. Anything, to figure out a way to help you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Loki was quiet above him, hearing his words. The moment Tom felt warm bindings around his wrists and ankles was the moment Loki disappeared from above him.

“No!” Tom craned his neck, but the room was so dark. “Please, no.” He pulled at his restraints, trying to ignore the throbbing in his pajama bottoms. 

From somewhere in the dark room, came Loki’s voice, “I am very angry with you, Thomas.”

Tom lay still, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. “I know, my love. I know. I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.” 

His voice was wrecked from the tears. He usually wasn’t this quick to cry, but Loki’s absence and his immense guilt weighed heavy on his heart and now that Loki was here, so close but untouchable, had Tom nearly drowning in his despair. It rolled in waves off of him.

Blinking up at the ceiling, Tom gasped when he felt his pajama bottoms disappeared, cool air hugging the skin of his legs and hips. A long finger trailed up the bottom of his foot and he jerked away, but the restraint held him still.

“You could have been hurt. They might have refused to return you to me. A wide variety of variables could have made your impromptu trip a complete disaster.”

Tom was nodding, eyes drifting closed. Loki’s fingers slid up his leg, tickling the fine golden hairs that grew there. He was now on the other side of the bed. It was hard to keep track where he was in the room.

“But,” Loki said, massaging the inside of Tom’s right knee, bringing a quiet whine to Tom’s lips, “I saw how you dreamt and I saw what you were trying to convey, Thomas. You were afraid in your dream and I couldn’t help you. I could only wake you in the way I know how. But I see your meaning now.”

Shaking his head, Tom mumbled, “It can’t be the same. My dream was so insignificant in comparison to yours. I was afraid of the unknown, of the possibility of pain and panic. You actually lived it, darling. You lived it and I can’t deign to believe that my fear is comparable to yours.”

Silence in the room. Opening his eyes, Tom could make out a dark outline by the foot of the bed, Loki standing pensive. The tear tracks on his face had grown cold and made his skin feel stretched and dry. 

“Please.” Just a whisper, but cracked and laden with emotion. “I’m sorry. I love you. I will do whatever I can whenever I can to help you.” He steadied himself, head falling heavy to the pillow. “No matter what you say.” As suddenly as they were there, the restraints faded from his skin and Tom lay quietly for a second. He located Loki where he stood by the bed and quickly rose to his knees, reaching out and falling into Loki’s opening arms. Tom reached around Loki’s back and pulled him down to the bed. The god’s lips were everywhere, like tiny flames on his skin.

“I’ve watched you, all this time, yearning to touch you. Watching you sleep. Watching you dream. Whispering my name, reaching for me. I nearly gave in half a million times.” Loki was whispering at his throat, sliding his cock against Tom’s. He moaned and opened his legs, Loki fitting himself against the cradle of his hips with the familiarity of a lifelong lover. Holding Loki to him with a hand at the back of his neck, Tom kissed his lips, starved for the feel of them, the taste. Until Loki wiped more tears away from his eyes, Tom didn’t realize he was still crying. 

“Please don’t be angry with me,” he whispered into the dark. Loki ground down more roughly and nipped at Tom’s bottom lip, keeping it secure between his teeth. He gasped, Loki surrounding him, crowding him. Long fingers laced with his own, anchoring his hands above his head. 

“You know that I cannot deny you anything, Thomas. I never wanted them to discover you. I had a feeling I was being watched, but you are my treasure, mine, and I will not have them interfere in our life together.”

Tom’s arm movement was limited but he tried to lift his hips to match Loki’s dry rutting, all the while spinning from Loki’s words. “Your mother loves you, Loki. All she needs to know is that you are happy and loved and—“ Gasp. “And you are and…oh, God, Loki, please, hurry.” He felt lubricant at his entrance and knew Loki was close to entering him. “Just…start slowly please, my love.” Loki reached down and pushed in a long thin finger, working him until he could add two and then three fingers. The two weeks Loki had been gone were torment, sexually. Now, with Loki knuckle deep in him, Tom was seeing spots in his vision, the dark room spinning with only Loki as the center axis of it all. Hovering above him, Loki’s eyes were wide, drinking in every gasp, every moan, every lip bite. 

Tom released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as he felt Loki press the tip of his cock to his entrance. Gently, he began to push in. They both groaned once he was fully seated inside. Loki’s hands on Tom’s hips were shaking, his hard grip a likelihood of fresh bruises in the morning. Quite suddenly, he reached down and scooped Tom up. He reclined back against the headboard, staying inside Tom, who straddled his hips. Loki’s hands clamped around Tom’s wrists and held them behind his back. 

“Move for me, Thomas.” Tom, breathing shallowly, could only nod. He bent forward slightly at the waist, marveling at how deeper Loki was in this position, and began to move. His own cock rested heavily against Loki’s stomach, swollen and leaking pre-come. With every pitch forward of his hips, it rubbed a line up Loki’s flat belly, but still provided little relief. 

The only support he had was his knees and Loki holding him steady with his free hand. His arms behind his back began to burn but he didn’t care. All he could see was Loki’s wide gaze, his own cock rubbing over Loki’s twitching stomach muscles, his parted lips, whispering for Tom to move. He steadied himself on his knees and started to pump hard, sliding up and down. He cried out when his prostate was brushed and held still a moment, eyes rolling back in his head. 

Loki turned suddenly, lying flat on the bed, propping his feet on the edge of the mattress. Releasing Tom’s wrists, he grabbed onto his hips and began a furious pace into Tom, who fell forward and held himself up with two hands on Loki’s chest. He couldn’t help the shouts that spilled from his mouth, holding still while Loki fucked him. He had found that sweet spot and was bucking into him at full strength.

“Yes, Thomas, scream for me. I’m not finished with you.”

A shudder rippled through Tom’s body and he entrusted himself to Loki and his strength, his possession, his love. Loki took him in every way he’d been taken by him before, but there was urgency in the way he lifted Tom’s hips to meet his thrusts, a mild violence in the way he gripped Tom to him, the hand at his neck dominating and possessive. Loki would not let him release, the warm ring having appeared on his cock sometime after Loki’s aggression changed the pace.

Tom’s voice was gone by the time Loki had him on his back again. His legs lay limply but he held Loki close as he finally felt the warm ring disappear and Loki’s hand closed around his neglected cock. He cried out as he came, back arching off the bed, voice broken, long strings of come bursting out and coating Loki’s chest. The swell of his orgasm crashed through his limbs and lay brightly in his head, snuffing out all sound, stealing his sight. He was vaguely aware of Loki whispering to him, the full weight of the god heavy on his body. Loki stilled as he too released, a ragged sob escaping his clenched teeth, his cock pulsing deep within Tom, who lay trembling. He rested his forehead on Tom’s chest, breathing deeply. Lifting his arms, Tom tugged the god up until he was lying fully on him. Slowly, very gently, Loki pulled out and Tom winced, his abused hole red and leaking come. Loki rubbed soothing circles on Tom’s hipbone, waving his hand and making the come on his and Tom’s body disappear. 

“I would ask for a bath right now, but I think I might drown.” Tom’s voice was raspy. He was sorry it was too dark in the room to look down at his body, already knowing Loki’s marks and bites and bruises would be showing. He wanted to see them all. 

“I would not let you drown.” Loki was pulling at his legs, rubbing them for blood flow. Tom groaned and clutched at the sheet, knowing he would be beyond sore tomorrow. After a few moments, Loki began kissing his way up Tom’s body, finally pressing his lips to his, his tongue pushing in. 

“Thank you,” Tom breathed, settling under the blanket, Loki’s body curled around his. 

“For what?” Loki stroked his hair.

“For coming back.” The hand at his hair froze and then moved down to cup his jaw, making him look up.

“I could never leave you, Thomas. I am absolutely incapable of it. Did I have to be alone in that moment? Yes. But only to sort through my thoughts. I…” he swallowed and cuddled closer to Tom. “How is she?” he whispered. Tom didn’t need him to clarify to know whom he was talking about.

“She misses you. She watches for you. She knows you’ve been struggling lately.”

Loki closed his eyes. “Heimdall.”

Tom laughed quietly. “Even if it weren’t for Heimdall, a mother knows these things. How can you expect her not to be worried?”

Loki said nothing. “And…and Thor?” Tom was surprised and proud of him for facing what he knew was his least favorite subject.

“Thor…he thought I was you, for the second that he saw me.”

“He should never have seen you.”

Tom was quiet. “I know,” he whispered, pressing his fingers into Loki’s palm gently. “But it all happened so fast. I was about to jump into the vortex when he landed out on the bridge. He…he didn’t look dangerous or angry, like I thought he might be.” Loki pulled him closer. “But the look on his face…I could tell he was shocked at seeing me, or you, rather. But he looked sad and disappointed that I was leaving so soon, almost like I was leaving without speaking to him first.”

Loki lay quietly. And then, “He would look like that.”

Lifting his head, Tom frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Only that, there was a time when Thor and I were inseparable. I practically worshiped him, my older brother. But then, an astonishing truth about my parentage came out and well, a sad sort of violence erupted between us. None of it at his provoking. My wrath knew no limits.” Tom listened, his nose inches from Loki’s, his fingers twining in the long strands of Loki’s black hair. “My actions following this reveal were those of a desperate man. Thor and I battled in ways more than just physical. I couldn’t begin to define the shame that erupted in my heart. The differences in us became too much and I faltered, in the worst ways, Thomas.” He cleared his throat and Tom wiped the tear that fell from Loki’s eye with the pad of his thumb. “I had the misfortune of falling into the hands of individuals much more defiled than I and well, that is where my dreams stem from. Separate from that, my imprisonment on Asgard lasted so long that I almost couldn’t remember the life I used to lead there, not that it could ever be that way again. I told Frigga of my plan to leave and so I did, coming here. Thor, most likely, felt confusion, betrayal, but I’m assuming expected some kind of apology-laden reunion. My anger was still too great. And my pride. He was a pure Asgardian and I was not.” He shrugged. “Finding you here on this planet I had for so long thought beneath me, well, it’s a gift I never imagined I could receive.”

Leaning forward, Tom rested his forehead on Loki’s, closing his eyes. “I’m so glad you did.” He brought his arm around Loki’s waist and pulled their chests flush together. “But you are my love. And somewhere far away, you are still seen as a prince.”

Loki was shaking his head. “No, that cannot be possible.”

“It’s true! Heimdall referred to you as ‘Prince Loki’. For some reason, you think that you’ve been erased from your family, but I simply do not think that’s true.”

Shaking his head again, Loki said, “It does not matter, regardless. My life is here, with you.”

“But,” Tom started, then stopped. Loki inclined his head, waiting. Tom didn’t know if it was too soon, but he was sensing a weakening in Loki’s mental resolve. He took the chance. “But would you consider at least going to visit your mother?” He swallowed, searching Loki’s face. “She misses you.”

Instead of the impatience he expected to see, Loki looked down and traced Tom’s lip with a finger. 

“Maybe, Thomas. Maybe. For now, sleep. I wish to wake beside you once again.”

Sliding closer to each other, embraced by long limbs and seeking lips, they closed their eyes and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a note that I do not have a beta and do all the edits myself. If something pops out at you, please let me know and I will fix it. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I am splitting my time between two stories right now :) Hope you enjoy!

Chirping birds woke Tom up, tangled in Loki’s arms. Loki was still asleep, appearing as if this was the first good night’s rest he’d had since he left. With the light from the window, Tom could see Loki’s face clearly. The skin under his eyes was slightly bruised and his black hair was longer, curling at the ends where it met the tops of his shoulders. His right hand gripped Tom’s wrist and his left arm curled around the back of Tom’s neck, holding him close. It was almost as if even his subconscious was afraid Tom would sneak away and leave earth again.

There were no dreams last night, which Tom was grateful for. The vial with Frigga’s sleep potion was still safely hidden, but he didn’t have the chance to take it before they fell asleep. He lay quietly against Loki’s chest. Frankly, the idea of taking the potion frightened him. He had no concept of what he would be experiencing once inside Loki’s dream. The god was fierceness personified. What kind of horrors in his past would have traumatized him like this?

Whispers made him raise his head. Loki was frowning in his sleep, murmuring unintelligibly. Tom watched him, anticipating another nightmare scenario. But Loki quieted down after a few moments, his face relaxing.

Moving slowly, Tom inched Loki’s arm from around his neck, scooting slowly away from him. Just as he was about to crawl to the edge of the bed, Loki woke, fingers clenching around Tom’s wrist, green eyes wide with alarm. His other hand grasped Tom’s bicep and held him close.

“Thomas,” Loki breathed, voice raspy from sleep.

“Shh, it’s okay. I was only going to bathroom, love. I’m right here.” Loki was stiff, half sitting up. He gave the room a cursory glance and then pulled Tom into a hug, his lips kissing the skin behind his ear.

Tom chuckled. “Goodness, you’re affectionate this morning.” But he knew what Loki was afraid of, despite his trying to make light of it.

Loki released him and watched with sharp eyes as Tom slowly climbed off the bed, wincing at his protesting muscles, and walked across the room to the adjoining bathroom. Tom quickly handled his business and turned to the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth. He observed the state of his body as he brushed, lifting his free hand trace the bite marks on his shoulder, a particularly deep one by his waist, the dark outlines of bruises on his hips and thighs. He stretched his neck to the side, admiring the assortment of hickeys left there by his ardent lover. He rinsed and wiped his mouth, then limped back into the bedroom. Loki was lying on his back, tossing the red ball back and forth in his palms.

Slipping under the covers, Tom snuggled up to him. “I see you found it again.”

“Again?”

Tom smiled. “Oh, nothing.”

Loki tossed the ball down to the floor and turned on his side, looking down at Tom. “How are you feeling?”

Tom practically purred. “Splendid.”

Loki’s eyes roved down his form, no doubt seeing his own markings on Tom’s body. “Let me heal you.”

Tom caught his hand, about to perform a healing spell. “No wait. Let me see them for just a little while longer?”

“My masochist,” Loki whispered, squeezing his hand.

Tom chuckled. “Only for a little while. I do love seeing them,” he whispered as Loki glided a finger over the bite mark on his waist.

Head bent, Loki seemed to be absorbed in seeing the canvas that was Tom’s skin, but when he looked up, Tom saw why. Tears pooled in Loki’s eyes and he inhaled a shaky breath. “I love you, Thomas.” He leaned forward and lay a solitary kiss on Tom’s forehead. “My brave, foolish, impossibly beautiful mortal.”

Tom hugged him close, foreheads touching. “I love you, too, Loki.”

They stayed in bed the rest of the morning, drowsing and cast in sunlight.

***

Loki was rifling through their book collection in the living room while Tom made them lunch. His eyes strayed to the flour jar every few minutes. Honestly, he was glad he didn’t take the potion the night before. Not that Loki would have let him out of his sight for even a second. But it appeared as if Loki hadn’t dreamed. What would happen if he took the potion and Loki’s dreams were about normal things, such as their life here?

He banished his thoughts as Loki drifted into the kitchen, a book in his hands.

“What do you have there?”

Tom had a feeling Loki was in the mood for some poetry. He figured right.

“A book of excerpts from poems, diaries, journals and such. Would you like to play?” He cradled the book in his palms, watching as Tom piled their plates with pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs. They had missed breakfast and he was craving what they had skipped. He chuckled to himself, thinking that even simple questions sometimes sounded menacing coming from Loki.

“Yes, of course. After we eat?” Loki nodded and waved his hand over the book, promptly making it disappear, probably pocketing it away for when they were ready. The way they read poetry wasn’t a game, really. Only a way to randomly select excerpts and they took turns reading aloud. Tom recognized it as a sign that Loki was feeling especially vulnerable and wished to remain close to Tom in any way he could. Doing small, menial things together helped, but so did reading aloud. He’d always appreciated Tom’s vast book collection, fascinated with the minds of the mortals who’d written them, wondering at their vast genius or possible insanity.

Loki poured the orange juice while Tom took their plates to the table. He felt Loki’s legs bracket his own when he sat down opposite him. Touching was important to Loki. It was very much a way he communicated with Tom, and right now his message was loud and clear.

It was an interesting thing to watch Loki eat. His grip on the utensils was never tight or forced. He was delicate with his food, never getting his hands dirty. Even now, he cut the pancakes into small pieces and picked up one piece at a time, chewing slowly. It was such a contradiction to the power and fury and lightning Tom knew lay just beneath his skin.

“Why do you stare?”

Tom looked down, pushing his food around. “I’m not.”

Loki looked him over, his eyes almost hungry. “ _Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic_ ,” he murmured to himself.

“Who said that?”

“Kahlo, Frida. Mexican. A painter and sufferer of pains. According to her biography in this book of yours, a majority of her bones were broken at one time in her life. I would very much have loved to have had a conversation with her,” he finished cryptically and Tom found himself looking out the window.

“What is it, Thomas?”

Tom turned back to Loki and saw that the god was studying him, no doubt reading his scrunched brows and bitten lips. “Nothing, just thinking.” He remembered something. “Darling, why didn’t Thor just come after me? I remember getting back and scrambling to the house, assuming he was on my heels.”

Loki set his fork down quietly and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He braced his arm on the back of the chair next to him and looked out the window. “My claim on you makes you untraceable. It’s part of how I marked you. Frigga saw this. This is why Thor could not just jump in after you.” He smiled ruefully. “Thor is not as…understanding…of these mysteries as my mother.” He blinked and cleared his throat. “As Frigga is.”

Tom decided not to say anything about Loki’s slip of tongue, but it made him very happy nevertheless to hear him call Frigga his mother. He hoped Heimdall was listening somewhere.

“Knowing Thor, he’s probably already stormed to Frigga’s chambers and demanded an answer as to my—your—presence there. And why he was not allowed to follow. If what you say is true, and I am still seen as part of the royal family on Asgard, Heimdall would have been bound my honor to not disclose my location without my express permission. That is something Thor will have to address with Frigga.”

“So he doesn’t know about me?”

“It would appear not.”

Tom nodded and then began clearing their plates. Loki sat still, eyes focused on some middle distance. At the sink, Tom began soaping up a sponge to wash their dishes when Loki materialized at his side, a touch of desperation in his eyes.

“Jesus!” He took a step back and the soap clattered to the sink, suds bursting everywhere. He turned to Loki with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

Loki dismissed this and waved a hand over the dishes. They appeared on the dish rack clean and dry.

“Helpful,” Tom muttered as he rinsed his hands and toweled them dry. Loki took him by his upper arms and turned him. Tom looked up, concerned. “Are you alright, love?”

“Thomas, I must tell you something. Something I have never told anyone, apart from those directly involved. And you are the last person I would ever wish to know this about me, but I must. Because you deserve this truth.” His grip tightened. “Will you accept it?”

Tom blinked and clasped Loki’s forearms. “Yes, of course. Darling, what is it?”

Loki nodded and looked down, taking a deep breath. “This was from a time long ago. Years, my love, decades and decades before you were born.”

Tom nodded. He was tempted to move them to the living room to sit down properly, but he didn’t want Loki to stop and if this was the place he chose to finally disclose his past, then so be it.

Loki continued. “I know you have asked about it before and my vague responses have been frustrating for you. But I didn’t know how to tell you. And I didn’t know how you would react. You, so noble and warm, kind and generous and all the things I could never be. You, the one who completes me and is my everything.”

“Darling, I love you. But your past is just that, it’s gone. I know the man in front of me, however multifaceted he may be.” He put his open palm on Loki’s chest, directly over the hard beat of his heart. “You can tell me.”

Loki nodded and placed his hand over Tom’s, curling his fingers and squeezing. “You may have heard of this, growing up, learning of it in your educational institutions. But…I….”

“Darling…,” Tom murmured, brushing his thumb over the sharp curve of Loki’s cheekbone.

“I killed people, Thomas. A multitude of people. Not all of them by my hand, but certainly because of my actions, my frame of mind at the time.”

Tom held still. Loki’s fingers tightened over his arm.

He swallowed, worried eyes never leaving Tom’s face. “I was in league with a terrible creature, a force of pure chaos and hate, a lover of death. Not only was he forcing a control over me, but I was not necessarily averse to what I was doing. Except for maybe, the close people I was hurting.” He looked down and Tom had the impression that he was talking about Thor. “Regardless, certain individuals were sent to stop me, my brother included. A battle ensued that caused great damage and millions of lives--.”

“Wait,” Tom said, scrunching his brow. He did recall learning of something similar. The heroes who saved New York, was it? It was some long ago battle that he and his peers had learned about right along with other wars in other cities far away. It was quite frankly a revelatory experience for humankind, a startling declaration that alien life form existed. “You did this?”

“Yes, Thomas. But I was defeated and taken away to Asgard for my imprisonment.”

“After which you became free and decided to live on Midgard?”

Loki nodded, his brows tight in that way he looked when he was unsure of something, staring at Tom as if his life were balanced on a dangerous precipice he had no control over.

Tom slowly uncurled his fingers from Loki’s grasp and stepped around him. Loki immediately stiffened, following him with his eyes. He leaned against the counter and tried to sort his thoughts.

“So, if you were taken to prison immediately after that happened, when did your torture occur? Surely not by the hands of your family?”

Loki’s voice behind him was soft. “No. It was before.”

“Before what?”

“It was before New York. After I fell from the Bifrost. That is when…when I was found and _persuaded_ , you might say.”

Tom turned to him. “Persuaded. Loki, they tortured you! And this is what led to your massacre of millions of people and the near destruction of a city.”

Loki winced, fighting his reaction to Tom’s tone of voice.

Tom fell back a bit, realizing how biting his words were. He reminded himself of what it must have took for Loki to open up to him like this. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Just. Just give me a minute, alright?” He put his hand to his forehead, his mind trying to understand what Loki had just told him versus what he knew about Loki as a person, as a lover. “But you’re so kind, so loving, to me.”

Loki offered a small smile and looked down at the floor, taking a small step toward Tom. “It was a long time ago. You were not yet born, my love. It was a different time and I was a different person, ruled by jealousy and rage. Do I still possess such emotions? Yes. But not like that. Never again. Not after having met you.”

They stared at each other. Long moments passed. Loki shifted from one foot to another. “Thomas, please say something.”

Tom blinked. He stepped forward and Loki held out his hands, a plea in his eyes. He clasped his pale, long fingers in his own equally long but slightly more tanned fingers and sighed. “I love you. What you told me disturbs me greatly. But I do not know that man. I know you, standing in front of me, who even now, with your wounded look, can’t be the same person you just mentioned.” Loki turned his gaze down, shaking his head slightly. Tom raised his hand and cupped his cheek, leaning in and kissing Loki’s trembling lips. A soft sigh escaped the god before he returned the kiss, opening his mouth, tongue meeting Tom’s. Breaking apart to breathe, they rested their foreheads together, eyes closed. “I love you, Loki. I’ve loved you since the moment we met and you healed my burn. Do you remember?”

“I remember everything,” he said, voice but a whisper.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. Unlike what you might have experienced in the past, I won’t leave you.”

The sob that escaped Loki’s throat slammed into Tom’s very chest. Loki burrowed close, lips at Tom’s neck, whispering his name and eternal devotions, arms wrapped tightly around Tom’s back.

“What did I do to deserve you, my mortal, my love?”

“I am not that much of a gift, darling.” And Loki was pushing closer, nodding that yes, yes he was, he was the whole world. “But I know you have changed and maybe, well, maybe that’s all it took.”

There were quiet sobs from Loki, tears blurring Tom’s own eyes.

Softly, against the shell of Loki’s ear, he whispered, “ _He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same._ ” Loki raised his head, eyes wide. “Bronte, Emily. English novelist and reader of minds, evidently.” The tears in Loki’s eyes trembled but held fast. And then his lips were seeking, breathing a pace along Tom’s throat, his jaw, his cheeks, nose, forehead, his lips. Up against the counter Loki bent Tom, mouth hot and begging on his skin, Tom’s tongue urgent and forgiving in turn. All thoughts of poetry were forgotten as steam slowly gathered and graced the kitchen window.

***

Several days passed this way, Loki’s usual high physical attention amped even more. He was rarely only a few feet from Tom, who didn’t mind in the least, his proximity to the god indicative of a number of things. While Loki had admitted to a horrible crime, Tom knew his imprisonment on Asgard and his earlier torture had worked something in his mind, a remorse that seemed ever-present, lulled only when Loki had met Tom. Now, Loki’s touches were constant and Tom, who reciprocated just as fervently, figured it had something to do with Loki’s two week disappearance, but that was beside the matter.

He returned to work on Monday feeling more buoyant than the past two weeks. He showered, dressed, made his coffee and left the house, Loki still asleep in bed. His client list was short that day and his time passed quickly between meetings. He thought of the one nightmare incident over the weekend, early Sunday morning, when Loki’s gritted cries woke him. It’d taken a while for him to calm Loki down, who never fully wakened, only slipped into a less frightening dream perhaps. Tom was beside himself with worry. He’d have to calculate the right time to take the potion. But it would have to be a risk either way. Somehow, he figured Frigga wouldn’t have given it to him if it had the chance of not working. She did say she designed it specifically for him. He’d have to trust her.

Loki made a surprise appearance at lunch that day, slipping his hand into Tom’s as he walked down the street. Tom had startled, but his surprise was replaced by happiness at seeing Loki out and about. They visited their café and sat outside at one of the tables. Tom was bundled up in coat and scarf, keeping his legs crossed for warmth. Loki sat beside him in jeans and a simple sweater.

“So tell me. Were you naked the whole time you were gone?”

Loki laughed. “No, Thomas. As much as I know you would have enjoyed that.”

Tom nodded seriously. “I would have. Yes.”

“I was thinking about what you said the other night.”

“Oh? Which part?”

“About visiting my mother.”

Tom sat up in his chair. “And?”

“I’m considering it.”

Tom’s face broke into a smile. “We don’t have to rush into anything, darling. I will make preparations slowly and we can do this one step at a time.”

“Thomas, you are not coming with me.”

Tom sat back. “What?”

“I will not have you anywhere near that place again.”

“But, darling. It’s your home. The place you grew up.”

“No, it’s not my home. This is my home. Here. And while I do hold fond memories of the place, there are far darker ones that press against the forefront of my mind.”

They sat in silence, Loki’s fingers rubbing small circles on Tom’s knuckles.

Tom sipped at his cappuccino slowly and turned to look up the street.

“Thomas, I know that look. You are not coming with me.”

Tom shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Loki’s grip remained tight on Tom’s hands, his eyes never leaving his face.

***

Tonight. He would do it tonight. He paced the bathroom floor and ran a hand through his hair, his bare chest bright in the glare from the ceiling light. Some of his bruises were fading, but others, more fresh and tender, stood out starkly against his pale skin.

Loki had been irritable all day, ever since Tom had been a tad smart in his refusal to allow Loki to go to Asgard without him. He’d gone along with it, still being affectionate with him in all his silence but short in his responses when Loki said something. And it appeared to be grating on Loki, who skulked around the house all evening. He was in the bedroom now and Tom was willing himself to run to the kitchen and drink the vial. He was nervous. Entering Loki’s mind while unconscious seemed like a breach or a betrayal of some kind. But he was willing to do it. For Loki, he would do anything. He figured that because of Loki’s current dark mood, there was a higher chance he would have nightmares tonight.

Loki sat on the bed, skimming through a book, his long fingers delicately gripping a corner of the page. Tom walked past him and out the door. In the kitchen, he quickly retrieved the vial, brushing off the excess flour and removed the cap. He took a deep breath and brought it to his lips, finally tipping it back and swallowing the clear fluid. It tasted mildly of vanilla and he wondered if that was on purpose, a kind courtesy on Frigga’s part.

Almost immediately, he felt drowsy. He threw the vial into the trash and made his way back to their bedroom. Loki was standing and removing his shirt. He paused when Tom came in and closed the door behind him.

“Are you alright?”

Tom nodded and headed for the bed. He collapsed onto the sheets and held his hand out for Loki. Loki frowned but slipped under the covers beside Tom, who leaned forward, eyes becoming heavier and harder to keep open. He kissed Loki’s lips, a moan passing between them.

And then Loki pulled back, as if startled, his hand curling around Tom’s waist. Tom’s head fell onto the pillow, clinging to Loki, fighting the pull of sleep. Loki rubbed a fingertip against his own lips, tongue peeking out to taste, his eyes widening fractionally. “Thomas…what did you….” But his eyes were closing too, very obviously against his will. Tom still had enough wits about him to marvel at the potion having the same effect on Loki. The last thing he saw was Loki’s dark head slowly lowering to his chest, making one final effort to cover Tom with his body, fighting perhaps to protect him even in this way. His leg pushed heavily between Tom’s and his arm snaked over his torso, pulling tight. And then he didn’t move anymore and Tom finally felt it was okay to let go, to follow Loki to that dark place he went. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the mattress, Loki’s weight the only comfort to him as he barreled into a deep and timeless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is much darker. I describe what Loki has nightmares of, what Tom encounters when he enters Loki's mind. There are scenes of torture, but I tried to limit them to examples of Loki's fear in solitude, while also in pain. I think that this is why Loki is still so traumatized. That, while his body was battered and abused, his mind was left to its own devices most of the time while he suffered. It was his isolation in these heinous conditions that left such an imprint on him. At least, that's how I see it.  
> I had a hard time coming up with these scenes, as they bothered me very much. I don't like thinking of Loki in these situations. I wanted to cry. But it had to be done. I anticipate this being the only chapter with so much pain, gore, and torture.
> 
> Also, I like to think of Loki's mind as tunnels, a place he gets lost in while asleep. That's why he sometimes finds himself in the caverns of torture, struggling to make it out, and other times he walks through the pleasant golden hallways of happy memories.

There was hardly anything more disconcerting than the sound of dripping water in pitch black darkness. Yet that was all he heard. Tom swiveled his head around, frantically trying to locate up from down. One moment he was falling asleep in Loki’s arms and the next he was catapulted into a night so solid, there were no figures, no lights, no shadows. There was nothing except an unbearable _heaviness_. He was beginning to panic from it, the sheer weight of _nothing at all_. And the dripping, so steady, a single metronome in this weighty ink, steady enough to drive one insane.

He inched his foot forward and felt his toes slide in dirt, clay-like and moist. That gave him some kind of bearing but then came the fear of walking right into something or worse, someone. He couldn’t deny the eerie feeling of being watched. Sweat broke out on his brow and he licked his lips, already feeling the humidity of this place begin to strain his body.

He took another step, reminding himself that these were simply memories, that nothing could really harm him here. Loki relived these horrid thoughts when asleep and Tom was determined to help him stop. He kept his arms up, gingerly feeling for a wall or something to indicate a path he could follow.

And then, in the distance, a terrible moan reached his ears, drawn out and dying low. He perked his head up, trying in vain to gauge the direction. A sob, so quiet he almost missed it, but he knew that voice.

“Loki?” He picked up the pace, shuffling blindly along a path he didn’t know might end at any moment and drop him into a bottomless pit. “Focus, Tom. Find him. Find him. Find him.” He repeated the words like a mantra. The small cries and, startling him and making his teeth clench, occasional scream, drew him in what felt like circles. Until finally, he stumbled blindly around a corner to hear whispers he recognized immediately. Soft and feverish, Loki whispered in another language, ancient and garbled. Tom couldn’t see him but used his broken voice to guide him. He sounded low to the ground, so Tom dropped to his knees and crawled his way forward. Reaching shaking fingers before him, he finally touched sweaty skin.

Loki whimpered and Tom felt him cringe away from his touch.

“No, no, Loki. Darling, it’s me. It’s Tom.”

Loki cried then, sobbing deep moans of anguish that poured forth from his chest. From what Tom could feel, his touch tentative and feather soft, Loki was kneeling in the dirt, arms restrained out to his sides, tied off in some unknown distance. His back was bent painfully forward and over the back of his head was a strap of rough leather, holding him face down in the dirt, secured onto hooks at each side of Loki’s head. He was wheezing, no doubt inhaling particles of that packed dirt. How long had he been like this?

Tom fought his panic, his heart beating wildly. How was he to save him from this? “Okay,” he said out loud. “Okay. Hold still for me, my love.” He felt along Loki’s arms, which were trembling terribly, until he reached his wrist. Wrapped around the slim joint was a rough rope, too thick to pick apart with his fingers. Loki was mumbling into the dirt. Tom was still unsure if he was even aware of his presence. He looked around stupidly, not seeing a thing. With what could he cut these ropes?

Bending low, he pushed back Loki’s hair, matted with sweat. “Loki, please. Please, darling. I need to cut these ropes. Where can I find something--.”

Footsteps approached and a light blazed into view. Tom watched wide-eyed, an arm thrown over his face to guard against the sudden glare, as two monstrous creatures, talon-clawed and hulking grew large in his sight. They approached where he and Loki knelt, giving no indication of seeing him at all.

At his side, Loki was squirming, having heard their approach too. He was choking on words he couldn’t form, pleas that wouldn’t be heard, sobs that ripped into Tom’s gut.

“No,” Tom heard himself say, jumping up and standing in front of Loki. “No! Don’t hurt him. Stop!” But one of the creatures simply put its arm out and swept him out of the way. He landed on his back near the far side of the cavern, scrambling up as Loki screamed.

And then they were gone. Or better yet, Tom was not in the same place. There was a shift of balance and now he stood in another cave.

He could see here. There was a thin, ephemeral light that seemed to hover in the air. His eyes were immediately drawn to a sickly green pond. It was shallow and still, except for at its center, where a man lay facedown, each limb secured to four wooden stakes, his body stretched out painfully. He was only barely submerged in the water.

“No, please,” Tom said, fearing Loki had already drowned. But then Loki’s head suddenly popped up, gasping for air. His black hair clung to his face, which was contorted in determined concentration, pain furrowing his brows, teeth gritted tightly. Tom realized he was straining to hold his head above water. His neck and shoulders rigid from the effort it took to hold his head up, Tom knew they probably felt like fire.

He ran to the pool and splashed into it, falling at Loki’s side. “Baby, I’m here. It’s okay. Relax. Rest, please rest.” He turned Loki’s head toward him and wedged his thigh under his neck, bracing his weight and relieving the tension from his shoulders. Loki must have put his head under water on purpose, holding his breath, to take away the pain from his shoulders, if only for a few seconds.

Loki’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing heavily, his body shaking with small spasms. “Thomas?”

Tom jumped and then leaned down, his lips close to Loki’s bleeding ear. Oh god, why was it bleeding? “Yes, my love. It’s me. I’m here.”

“You must…leave….please. Get away. Do it.”

“No! I’m not leaving you. I’m here to end this. I will. I promise you.”

Loki smiled weakly, eyes closed. “My brave…foolish mortal.”

A great boom echoed in the room and Tom looked up, fearing the ceiling would collapse on them. And then, as suddenly as Loki was in his grasp, he was gone. The entire pool, the wooden stakes, Loki himself, evaporated into a thin mist, disappearing quickly.

Tom knelt on the hard ground, fingers clasping only air, no water, no Loki, astounded and gasping. He climbed to his feet, tears blurring his sight. He scrubbed at them angrily, looking around at this new place.

Light reflected off of millions of bits of minerals and chipped stones packed into the cavern walls. There was a purple haze that illuminated a solitary figured kneeling on the earth, yet again. Only this time, Loki was restrained with his back straight, arms tied off to the sides, same as before. His head hung forward on his chest, black hair moving softly as he dragged in one ragged breath after another.

Tom ran across the expanse of the cavern, not caring that his feet were being cut on loose rocks. He dropped to his knees before Loki, hands reaching up and holding Loki’s heavy head. His eyes were closed and he was silent. No mumbling, no whispers. Completely unconscious. His torso was a twisted map of bruises, splotches of color ranging from green to purple and blue. His neck had dark red lines wrapped in vicious circles, as if he had been throttled with something long and thin.

“Fuck,” he whispered, fingering the marks, furious tears bursting over his sight. He took in the rest of him. Long, thin metal wires cut painfully into the skin of Loki’s arms, securing his wrists and wrapping tightly all the way up to his shoulders. Blood dripped noisily from some of the more deeply embedded wires. A scream to his right made him whip his head around. In the distant gloom, he made out the opening of another cavern, vaguely making out the figure of Loki bent back over a hard wooden wheel, strapped and immobile. One of those hideous monsters from before walked in slow circles, admiring the way Loki trembled.

“What?” Tom whispered, wondering how Loki could be there but also here. Then he heard another cry and with mounting horror, he slowly discerned the opening of at least half a dozen small caves, all branched off from this main room, each containing a version of Loki in extreme duress or pain.

He turned back to Loki, here before him, and looked closer, alarmed to see that the end tips of other, nearly invisible wires extended from all directions behind Loki, secured tightly into the flesh of his back. Pulsing and emitting a low blue light, they hummed into the purple light surrounding them.

Tom stood and walked around the god, fingering the thin cords. “This is it,” he said. This had to be the connection Loki still had in his mind, the connection strong and in desperate need of severing. Tom turned in circles, staring into each of the smaller cavern rooms branched in all directions, watching as Loki was tortured in all of them, each way different and more terrible than the first. The sounds of bones cracking, skin splitting, gasps of pain and cries of fear, they were all bred from this Loki kneeling before him, closed off to it all. The wires attached to his back worked almost like synapses in a brain, sending signals to each of the caverns. Loki was feeding these own images to himself, Tom realized with growing dismay.

Confidence taking root, Tom searched the main cavern room but there was nothing he could use to cut the lines attached to Loki. There were only blunt rocks and lots of dirt. Another cry and muted whimpering trickled from the cavern at the far end. With one last look at Loki behind him, he took quiet steps in the direction of the last room. Peering around the lip of the cave, Tom was only aware of intense heat blazing against his face, dark smoke billowing out from the top. Preparing himself for the worst, he braced a hand over his face and took a step in. There was a high fire blazing along the edge of the room, forming a circle around its center. Loki was suspended in the air by the same wires Tom saw in the main room. Hands tied behind his back to his ankles, Loki spun slowly, head hanging low. The heat in the room was roaring and sweat dripped off every inch of his skin so that it gleamed. Barely conscious, he struggled to keep his eyes open, breathing laboriously. Just beneath his hovering body were a group of swords, all pointed face up.

“Loki,” Tom exhaled, fighting his instinct to run and get him the hell down from there. But knowing this wasn’t the way to do it, he was frozen in sick anticipation. Just then, the length of wire supporting Loki’s weight gave way, dropping Loki a few inches before pulling tight again. Loki choked out a cry, eyes clasped shut, the swords looming closer with every drop. The fear of being gutted by a dozen swords in addition to the stifling heat, overwhelming enough for Loki who, as a Frost Giant by birth, would feel it on a heightened level, must be a complete devastation to bear.

Tom forced himself to focus. This Loki was only an imprint of sorts, a duplicate of the Loki outside in the main room, the one he knew in his heart was the real Loki, the one who was the most battered. And in order to end all of this suffering, he needed one of those swords.

He dropped to his knees and began to crawl forward. As he got closer, the Loki above noticed him for the first time. He started shaking his head, whispering his name, “Thomas, Thomas, no,” trying to raise his head.

Desperate to know how he was going to ever go forward with his life after having seen the suffering Loki experienced, Tom wiped his tears with the back of his hand, holding back his own sobs. He reached up and clasped the back of the first blade, mindful of the sharp edge. He stood and tugged until the embedded pummel and hilt began to shift and become loose. After another moment of pulling, the sword came free. He gathered it up and fled the cave. Immediately the air cleared as he ran across the cavern. Coming back to Loki, he dropped to his knees again and held his head up, kissing his lips.

“Loki, I am going to sever these lines. This might hurt but I will get us out of here, okay? I will get us out. Please hold still.” Loki managed a soft groan. Tom sprang up again and walked around him, bringing the taut wires into view. There were at least a dozen of them.

Tom raised the sword and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, my love.” He swung it down low and fast, feeling the vibration of the cut lines as one by one, they all sprang free and spiraled off into the darkness. Loki screamed and fell forward, braced only by his wrists, which were still tied. Dark blood ran freely from the wire tips, still rooted in his skin. Almost immediately, the sounds of misery coming from the other small caverns ceased and an eerie silence descended on the place.

Loki was gasping, pulling at his restraints, moaning wordlessly. Without skipping a beat, fearing his courage would fail, Tom lifted the sword and sliced the wires attached to Loki’s arms. He dropped the sword and rushed to Loki, who had collapsed into the dirt.

“Loki, please stay awake. We have to leave this place,” he said, carefully unwinding the wire from his arms. Tom could barely see an inch of pale skin that wasn’t covered in red. He lifted Loki, curling his hands under his shoulders, propping him up on his chest. With some coaxing, he got him to his feet. Loki stood shakily, leaning most of his weight on Tom, who tried to grip him as best he could. His hands kept slipping on all the blood from his back. Setting his jaw, Tom pulled Loki’s arm around his shoulder and clasped him around the waist. The god was heavy, despite his lean physique, but at least he was awake.

Loki was attempting to bury his face in Tom’s neck, his favorite place in the entire universe, if Tom remembered correctly. He hugged him close and began to pull him from the room. They went off into dark tunnels, moving in what felt like circles. Loki was quickly fading, his murmurs slowly falling silent, his head heavy on Tom’s shoulder. Tom’s arms were burning. Sweat poured off the edge of his nose, dripped down the curve of his jaw.

He was beginning to panic that they would never find their way out of the dark recesses of Loki’s mind when suddenly there was a voice. They froze in the shadows. A woman was speaking.

_“Yes, my love. But not too far. Thor has his training and cannot accompany you this time. Stay close.”_

Tom recognized the voice as belonging to Frigga.

A little boy’s voice came after. _“Yes, mother!”_

He followed the voices, now muted and unintelligible, pulling Loki along.

The walls seemed to be shifting now from rough earthen rock to a more smooth gold-lined finish. The floors became bright and gleaming.

They seemed to be entering a different part of Loki’s psyche now. Quite suddenly another voice, one he recognized as his own.

_“Yes, but, it’s really simple. See, you put the toast into these slots and then push down on this little lever and it activates the heat, toasting the toast!”_

_“I am very well aware of all of this now, Thomas.”_

_"Well, it looked like you needed some help.”_  

Tom somehow found the energy to smile, recognizing a conversation he and Loki had had early on in their relationship.

Up ahead he saw an opening to another corridor. Down this hall they went, peering into the small rooms lined on each side. There was Frigga standing on a balcony with a young Loki, appearing to be about ten or eleven years old. His pale skin was clean and his black hair short. He was dressed in elegant fabrics, black and green and gold. He and Frigga were leaning over a small orb of light, Loki’s face lit up with wonder and happiness and innocence. Tom had to tear himself away.

In another room, another version of Loki, now looking to be around sixteen or seventeen years old, cantered around the room on a horse, deep in conversation with another young man on horseback, blonde and strong and clothed in dark blue and red. Thor, Tom realized. Teenaged Thor smiled genially and threw his head back in a great big booming laugh at something Loki had just said, clasping the dark haired youth on the shoulder, saying something that ended with an affectionate, _“Brother.”_

“Please, Thomas,” Loki whispered at his side, tears coursing down his cheeks. Tom hauled them away from that room, taking only brief glances into the rooms left. There he was with Loki in the shower, steam rising over their bent heads. Another showed Tom in the kitchen, singing softly to himself as he prepared a meal. Most of these rooms were of Tom only, some more intimate than others, some just showing Tom doing mundane, domestic things, but obviously Loki watched and remembered it all. Others contained Frigga and Thor, of happier times, where all smiled easily. None contained the mysterious Odin.

Finally they reached the end of the hall, where a single arch led into a tiny alcove. Rippling on the wall clued Tom in that there was probably water in that small space. He led them in and stared down into a pool of clear, blue water. It seemed bottomless.

He side stepped over to the wall and leaned Loki up against it.

“Wait here a moment, darling.” Loki sagged against the wall, saying nothing. Tom crouched by the edge of the pool and skimmed his fingers over the surface. He felt a tugging sensation on his fingertips. Unsure, he stuck his entire hand in and almost toppled in completely. He pulled his hand back and crashed onto his backside. The pool was like a vortex, pulling inward. Out of breath and shaking from exertion, he believed this was what they had been looking for. There was nowhere else to go.

He got to his feet and turned to Loki. The god seemed ready to bolt, the sight of water no doubt reminding him of his time in the pond, restrained and slowly drowning. But something in Tom’s core told him they had to jump in, that this was the way out. The belief that this was the right thing to do pulsed in his very veins. He stepped close.

“We have to jump in, love.”

“No, please no,” Loki said, shaking his head, turning into Tom and clinging to his shirt. Tom hugged him, unable to tell who was trembling more.

"We do. I know it’s the way out. It has to be.” He angled his head back, trying to look Loki in the eye. Gripping his shoulders, he said, “You won’t be alone. I’m going to be there with you. I won’t let go. I promise.”

Loki cast terrified eyes at the pool and then turned to Tom. He nodded after a moment and said, “Alright, Thomas. I trust you.”

Tears sprang to Tom’s eyes. “Thank you, love. It’s going to be okay.”

They stepped to the rim, hands clasped tightly. Tom was gazing into the swirling depths, trying to summon the nerve to do this, when he turned to Loki only to find that Loki was already gazing at him. Loki’s body was tattered, but he raised a bloody arm and gripped Tom’s neck softly.

“I love you, Thomas.”

That was all he needed. He wrapped his arms around Loki, clasping him close, and jumped, the pool swallowing them both whole, leaving not a ripple behind.


	11. Chapter 11

Tom plunged into wakefulness, choking on his own gasps. Like he would seek air from the bottom of a swimming pool, he broke through the surface of that deep sleep, clutching at his chest. Beside him, Loki was on his hands and knees, arms barely supporting him, hacking from deep in his lungs. Realizing Loki couldn’t breathe, Tom grasped him by the shoulders and began soothing his back. There were no wounds when just a moment ago Loki had been bleeding to death. His skin was smooth and pale, no bruising, so cuts or burns or broken bones. 

“Loki,” Tom said, his voice broken, croaking out his name. He coughed again, trying to clear his airway. “Breathe, baby. Let it out.” He grasped Loki by the chin and massaged his throat.

Loki collapsed over his lap, shivering, his eyes squeezed shut, as if the light from early dawn hurt him. He moaned and curled in on himself, sounding like he was finally getting air, dragging in great gulps of it. Tom held on to him, smoothing back his hair, rubbing his chest gently. 

“We’re back,” he said uselessly, staring around at the room. Everything was as they had left it. He half expected there to be water all over the place, for he and Loki to be sopping wet. It was as if Loki’s mind had simply thrust them out. He looked down at Loki, who was still shaking, teeth beginning to chatter. 

“Darling, what’s wrong. Are you cold? You’re never cold. What is it?” 

Loki blinked slowly and then closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Need…warmth, Thomas,” he said, sighing his name at the end. 

Still trying to find his own equilibrium, Tom nodded quickly and carefully climbed off the bed, leaving Loki curled into a ball in the middle of it. He yanked his pajama bottoms off and then pulled the blanket off the bed, letting it tent in the air while he scrambled to lie down by Loki again, allowing it fall down on them like a cloud. Loki’s arms went around his neck, squeezing him close, his legs pushing between Tom’s to settle more closely. Tom wrapped them in the blanket as best he could, worried at Loki’s reaction to the cold morning. Normally, Tom would be the one cocooning himself in blankets, while Loki usually lounged on top. Then again, Loki’s mind had just been violated and he was most likely trying to readjust to an invasive presence he hadn’t been expecting. 

Loki burrowed close, lips at Tom’s neck. A hand on the back of Loki’s head, Tom held him close, murmuring tenderly into his ear. Loki’s tremors slowly died down, his body becoming heavy in Tom’s arms.

“Sleep, my love. And rest.”

Loki fell into slumber again with a small moan. Tom moved his hands over his smooth back, warming the skin, relaxing the taut muscles. How long he lay there with Loki, he wasn’t sure, but the light slowly changed. He needed to call work before it got any later. He untangled himself from Loki’s grip and reached for his cell phone on the bedside drawer. He called his secretary, Emily, from the kitchen.  


“Hi, Em. It’s Tom. Look I woke up feeling absolutely dreadful. Must be some stomach virus.” He nodded at her sympathetic cooing. “Listen, I don’t think I can make it in today. I hope it’s not the flu or something.” He winced at the lie, closing his eyes, as if she could see his shame. He asked her to cancel his appointments today, feigning an upset stomach. She offered to swing by and bring him some soup, but he kindly declined, blushing as he remembered how she had a bit of a crush on him. 

“Thanks anyway, Emily. I’ll call again tomorrow to let you know if I’ll be in or not.”

Ending the call, he made himself a small meal and ate alone at the table. He didn’t want to spend too much time away from Loki, as he didn’t yet know if his efforts at ending the nightmares even worked.  


He washed up and inched under the blanket beside Loki. Trailing his fingertips along the curve of Loki’s jaw, he studied him. His face was completely relaxed, breathing evenly through his nose. Tom wondered what memories were playing out behind his forehead, whether they were pleasant and kind or if Loki’s peaceful face was a terrible façade for possible scenes of pain and terror.

Before he knew it he’d fallen asleep too. He woke to darkness in the room, wrapped up in the blanket alone. He sat up, heart pounding, but saw that Loki was asleep just next to him, his body spread wide on the sheet. 

“Guess you weren’t cold anymore,” Tom murmured to himself, smiling. He palmed the side of Loki’s neck, feeling his pulse beating strong, but Loki didn’t stir. He checked the time. Nine at night. He got up quietly and went into the bathroom to shower. 

***

 

Loki slept. For days and days. Tom spent most of the time in the bedroom, staring at him. He rose often to check that he was breathing, put the blanket over him if he appeared cold, only to have Loki shift an hour later, flinging the blanket away, never waking. It was sudden movements like that that had Tom sitting at the edge of his seat. Loki was in there somewhere. He could only hope that he was getting the rest he’d been missing out on for months. 

After calling in sick again the second day, he couldn’t put off going to work anymore. Thursday morning, he dressed quietly, watching Loki on the bed, breathing evenly, chest rising and falling. Coat in hand, he crouched by the bed and pushed back a strand of Loki’s hair, caressing his cheeks. 

“I’ll be back later, love.” He kissed his temple and let himself out the front door. 

He thought of Loki all morning, dodging questions from Emily as to how he was feeling, assuring her he felt loads better. She often poked her head into his office, offering him water or juice. He waved her away kindly, saying she was spoiling him, hoping that would placate her. It made her doting eyes become even more aggressive, and he excused himself back to his office. 

At his lunch hour, Tom raced home. Loki was as he left him, only lying on his side instead of his back. Closing the door behind him, Tom worried about food and water for Loki. He’d been asleep three days now. Would he thirst? Become hungry? But he didn’t want to force him awake. He even contemplated a trip to the hospital, but immediately rejected that idea. What would the doctors make of a specimen like Loki, of his blood samples? How would he even begin to answer questions like date of birth, place of birth, is he your twin, sir? Tom shook his head. Better not take that risk. Besides, he was sure that human medicine would have little effect on Loki. 

He returned to work a bit dejectedly.

Saturday found him cleaning the house, moving through the rooms, ear buds in place. He hit the playlist he liked to listen to when on a mission. He scrubbed the kitchen and two bathrooms, tidied up the living room, and sorted the mail. He was sweating by the time he went to their bedroom, saving it for last. Used to the sight of Loki prone on the bed, Tom quickly felt along his neck, assured that his pulse was strong. He began by gathering up dirty laundry. He and Loki often interchanged clothing, so it just got washed, dried, and folded altogether. He started a load and stepped into the bathroom, stripping his clothes to shower. The water felt incredible against his heated skin. He let it drizzle over his scalp, running his hand through his hair, massaging shampoo into a lather. 

Even though Loki was just outside the door in the bedroom, Tom missed him terribly. Every night he would crawl into bed and clasp onto Loki, fitting their limbs together easily. Waking every so often throughout the night, Tom would press his lips to Loki’s pulse, assuring himself that he was okay, that he was just resting. But why didn’t he wake? Surely he’d slept long enough to make up for what he had missed, right? He couldn’t be sure, but how he missed him. That penetrating stare he felt when doing routine things, his voice but a whisper yet holding that command nevertheless; his smiles, reserved for Tom only. 

He rinsed his face and body and turned the water off. Wiping himself down with a towel, he tied it around his waist and then gathered his shaving cream and razor and stood before the mirror. He only had a bit of scruff along his chin and jaw and upper lip. Turning his face this way and that, he moved the razor along the angles and lines of his face. When he was finished, he looked just like Loki, except with dark blond hair. 

He was rubbing lotion onto his face when he heard a cough in the bedroom. 

Flinging the door open, he gasped when he saw Loki moving slowly, rising on his elbow. 

“Thomas,” he was saying, hand reaching blindly beside him. His eyes were still closed, coming out of one of the deepest sleeps Tom had ever seen. 

“Loki, darling, I’m here.” Tom jumped onto the bed, his towel falling off his body. He'd yet to open his eyes. Was he even awake really? He was murmuring his name, his hands clamping onto Tom. They collapsed on the bed, Loki nuzzling his cheek.

“You are alright. You are unhurt.”

Tom felt tears sting his eyes. “Yes, my love. We’re okay now. We’re fine. Are you hungry or thirsty? Darling, can I get you anything?”

But Loki was already asleep again, limbs tightly wound with Tom’s. 

“Shit,” Tom whispered into the room. He relaxed into the mattress, Loki’s body heavy on his. 

Quite suddenly, a loud boom reverberated through the house and Tom froze. He wiggled out from beneath Loki and threw on some jeans, pulling one of Loki’s white T-shirts over his head before heading to the window overlooking the backyard. 

Not believing his eyes, Tom stared down at where Thor stood on the cold ground, his red cape billowing in the breeze, appearing to have just landed. 

Thor’s eyes rose to meet his. 

He clapped his hand over his mouth and fell back from the window, staggering to the bed. 

“Oh my god.” He rolled Loki over onto his back and cupped his cheek. “Baby, what do I do? Please wake up. What do I do?”

No response. 

Cursing, Tom dashed to the door and went out, closing it behind him. The house was silent. The scent of the cleaner he had used earlier still lingered in the air, but there was something else, a sharpness, that reminded him strongly of strikes of lightning. 

He started down the stairs, hands shaking. One foot after the other, he was closing the distance between himself and a deity he knew Loki didn’t like very much, even if their history was somewhat vague and confusing to him. But then he remembered one of the rooms he’d glimpsed into in Loki’s mind, of him and Thor on horseback, laughing and obviously very good friends. Surely, this was the same Thor? Then again, he had to remind himself that while Loki and Thor had appeared as teenagers, who knew how old they actually were and from where in their immensely long lives that memory was taken?

He lingered at the base of the stairs, peering around the corner into the kitchen, empty. He dashed across the opening and leaned against the wall in the living room, trying to calm his breathing and pounding heart. From here, he could lean to his right and see into their small dining room, where he and Loki ate their meals, read the newspaper, drank tea. 

He was about to peep his head around when a voice stopped him, deep and surprisingly calm. 

“Step forth, mortal.”

Tom leaned his head against the wall and took a shuddering breath, pressing his fists into his thighs. Gathering his courage, he straightened and stepped around the corner, cautious and ready to flee if necessary. 

Thor stood before the table, all of seven feet tall, but Tom was pretty sure that this was just his fear convincing him of things. He was taller than him and Loki, though. Where he fit into Loki’s embrace like a puzzle piece, he had to look up to see Thor in the eye. 

And a deep blue those eyes were when they landed on him, lit from within by a strange electric spark. Blue, as different from the green he so lovingly gazed into on a daily basis. Thor was a photonegative of Loki, in every respect. 

Now that he’d seen Tom up close, Thor visibly tensed, no doubt noting the startling similarity to his brother. 

“It is true, then,” he said, a deep rumble in his chest that Tom was positive was just how he spoke. 

“What is?” he said, no force in his voice. He was stricken by the power that was this god of thunder and he was afraid to come any closer. 

“That you are identical to my brother. I did not believe Mother. I was sure it was Loki who so hastily fled Asgard.” He narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, that large hammer gripped tightly in one huge fist. “Or is this some trick of his? Are you not real?”

He raised his hand as if to touch Tom, but Tom flinched and took a step back, colliding with the wall behind him. “Please don’t.” He knew on a cellular level, that Loki would be furious beyond anything he’d ever witnessed if Thor so much as breathed on him. 

Thor lowered his arm and took a glance around the room, noting the twin sets of coffee mugs by the stove, the two plates in the dish rack, the two coats hanging by the front door. “You are Loki’s mortal.”

“Yes,” Tom said, even if Thor didn’t phrase it like a question. “My name is Tom.”

“And you reside here together.”

Tom nodded. “Yes.” He tried to keep the tremor from his voice. 

“Where is my brother?” 

Tom swallowed and tried not to glance in the direction of the stairs. “He is…indisposed….at the moment.”

Thor made a motion to step around him, but Tom blocked him and was proud of himself for not cowering under that sharp gaze. “Please. You can’t see him right now. It’s not a good time.”

“Mortal, he is specifically the reason I have traveled to Midgard. When before his self-imposed exile allowed him a sort of anonymity, your journey to Asgard alerted us of his whereabouts.”

Tom’s heart fell. He was to blame for ruining Loki’s wishes to remain unknown. A question rose in his mind and he faced Thor squarely. “But what is so necessary about finding him. He served his time and now wishes to remain here with me. What is so important?”

“None except to see my brother after too long an absence.”

Tom was speechless. There was no other reason except that Thor wanted to simply see him? 

Thor seemed to follow his line of thought. “I know not what my brother must have told you about me. We were…close, once. And the reason for our ceased friendship has never satisfied me. I must speak with him. Now, you will let me pass or I will forcibly remove you from my path. An action I do not think my brother will greet with kindness, the abuse of his mortal.”

“You wouldn’t,” Tom said, feeling small.

A light crinkling appeared at the corners of Thor’s eyes. “Aye, I would not. Not without just cause.” His face became grave. “Heimdall reported to us that Loki has fallen into a slumber from which he has not awakened. Where is he?”

Tom sighed, recognizing his defeat. He raised a hand to explain. “Yes, he’s asleep. He’s been asleep now for six days. He fell into it after…um, after…look, it doesn’t matter--.”

“My mother gave you an elixir to relieve Loki of his dreams.”

Tom stared. “She told you?”

“Of course. I bade her council on the matter, just after I saw you on the bridge. Did you succeed?”

Tom visibly deflated. “I don’t know. We woke up afterward and we had trouble breathing, coughing and such. He became very cold and asked for warmth. He was shivering and seemed to fall back asleep again. He woke up briefly just before you got here, but he seemed out of sorts and not fully awake. Like he just wanted to make sure I was okay. But he’s asleep now again.” He frowned. “But I’ve watched him closely. And he doesn’t display any of the signs that he is in distress, as before when he would have a nightmare. This is the most at peace I’ve seen him.”

Thor nodded. “And what did you see in his mind? What has him so troubled?”

Tom hesitated. He cringed inwardly at the horrors he witnessed in Loki’s mind.

“He would not disclose any of what happened to him after he fell from the Bifrost. When I saw him again here on Midgard, he was greatly altered.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing with you what I saw without Loki’s consent.”

Thor studied him and then sighed. “I must see him.”

Tom didn’t know what else to do. “This way.” He climbed the stairs, aware of Thor just behind him. At the bedroom door, he paused.

“I can sense the fear in you. You need not worry. I wish him no harm.”

Tom took a deep breath and opened the door. 

Loki was curled up on his side, naked except for boxers. They walked in and stood by the foot of the bed, looking down at the pale figure before them.  
Tom inched away from Thor, closer to Loki. 

“Brother,” Thor whispered and went down on one knee by the edge of the bed. His hand inched slowly across the sheet until his fingertips pressed against Loki’s knuckles.

“He must have just moved. He was on his back when I went downstairs.”

“That is a good sign. If it were something more serious, he would not have moved at all.”

Tom squashed down his fear. “Oh, no. He’s been moving. Frequently. He responds to heat and cold. If he’s too warm, he will throw the blanket off, or burrow into the mattress if he’s cold. I usually drape him with a quilt when he does that.” He placed a hand on Loki’s forehead.

Thor watched him close. “Good. Then I believe it is only respite he requires. These dreams of his seem to have kept him without proper rest for quite some time.”

Tom shook his head, smoothing back Loki’s hair. “I had no idea. We would go to bed together and I believed he was sleeping.”

“Perhaps there were times when he did sleep, which is why you would wake to find him in a terror. But he is a creature of incredible stamina. Once his mind is set, it is difficult to dissuade him.”

Tom smirked, looking down at Loki. “True.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Thor. “You wouldn’t happen to know when he might wake? Again?”

“I do not. But have no fear. He will.”

They stood silently, Thor a stoic presence he had no idea how to read. 

“I must leave you now,” Thor said, taking a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Loki’s face. 

On the bed, Loki sighed softly and curled into a ball. Tom reached for the quilt folded on a side chair and put it over him, tucking it under his chin. 

When he straightened, Thor was looking at him. “You really love him, then?”

Tom shrugged. “Is it that much of a surprise to you?”

Thor had the good grace to look down. “No, it is not. He is easily loved, when allowed.”

“And you’re not allowed? Is that what you’re saying?”

Thor’s eyes narrowed. “That is the making of true brotherhood, that one does not require permission to love one’s brother.” He glanced down at Loki one last time and then turned to leave the room. 

In the dining room, Tom opened the glass door that led to the backyard. Thor walked out to the barren spot of dirt that would take him home. 

“You have my gratitude, Thomas. For caring for my brother. Heimdall will watch and by doing so, protect. Just call his name if you are ever in need.” He nodded one last time at Tom, who stood hunched over in the freezing air. And then he whispered it: “Heimdall.” A burst of light and a sound like the ocean in his ears, Tom watched as Thor was taken up and gone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Incubigirl, for chatting with me at all hours, helping me sort my thoughts and offering delicious smutty suggestions. ILY! *caresses your face and flies with you into the sunset*
> 
> When I wrote most of this, I was a bit sad. I think I channeled all of it into Tom. *hangs head*

Shuffling to the backdoor, Tom slipped into the warmth of the house, pausing in the kitchen. Not moments ago, another god had stood in that space, engulfing and making one feel small. He didn’t think they did it on purpose—Loki often had the same effect. It was just in their way of being, in how they held themselves, their stance. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen in another human being, save perhaps elite members of royal families. Which explained everything.

He sighed, welcoming the relative quiet and stillness of his and Loki’s home now. Trudging up the stairs, he walked along the hallway to their room.

His encounter with Thor had exhausted him. Rapid heartbeat, sweaty palms and shallow breaths were all signs that Loki's brother had unsettled him, even if he wasn't nearly as awful as Loki had made him out to be, something he would never admit to him. Maybe.

He didn't know how he would explain Thor's presence at all, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. The bedroom door creaked when he opened it, palm splayed wide on the wooden surface. Loki was lying as he left him. He stared at his back, rising and falling, the long curve of his spine and the sharp point of his hip bone.

Tom closed the door behind him.

He began undressing. Starting with his black sweater, he removed his clothing slowly, eyeing Loki and his steady breathing. Skin chilling in the cool air, he ignored everything but the quiet figure on the bed. He wanted and needed Loki back, desired his voice, his stoic presence, so often interrupted by moods that bordered on violence but never limited on brilliance.

He didn't expect this to work. He didn't expect anything of someone whose very identity relied on defiance. Their love for one another was fundamental in the understanding that he and Loki were different. Tom operated by rules entirely distinct from other couples and he cherished this unique position. Loki was his _everything_. He would never deny it.               

All he knew was that he loved this person and had been separated from him for too long. This was in a way worse than when Loki in all his anger vanished from his side. He had him here and yet was closed off from him in a way that his forced isolation never hurt him.

Thor’s impromptu visit stirred something in Tom, an uninhibited reminder that in the entire world and in the entire galaxy, as far as Loki had ever traveled in his vast lifetime, he had chosen Tom, as simple as that sounded. Loki was his and he was Loki's, wholly and spiritually.

After easing Loki onto his back, he climbed onto the bed and lay beside him, resting his head on his shoulder.

He smoothed his hand up Loki’s thigh, over his stomach and up to his chest. He traced patterns he remembered from when Loki was in his other form, the dark blue grooves that fascinated and concerned him a bit at first. Continuing on this path, Tom trailed his fingers along Loki’s neck. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and kissed him there, his lips forming a tiny bow just atop Loki’s heartbeat.

That single touch undid him. He moved closer, hooking his leg over Loki’s waist, breathing along his skin, whispering his name, pleading.

He kissed him. Kissed his jaw, his chin, his cheeks, forehead, temple, nose, eyelids. He kissed him. Turning his head, he gazed at that resting face, so calm.

“Loki…”

Finally, he pressed his lips against that closed mouth, moaning, curling his hand into his black hair. Pulling back, he studied Loki’s face and gasped softly. Was it his imagination or had Loki’s eyebrows twitch?

Adrenaline flooded his system and he rose to his knees. Bracing his arms on the bed, he leaned over Loki, searching.

This just might work, he thought. Happiness burst inside his chest like a flower blooming. Looking down the length of his body, Tom considered what to do next.

Hopping off the bed, Tom removed first his and then Loki’s boxers, his eyes drawn low, a light blush spreading over his cheeks even after all this time. He grabbed the bottle of lube they kept in a bedside drawer, just in case. Just in case he woke, Tom wanted to be ready for him.

Crawling back on the bed, he straddled Loki, aligning their bodies just right, feeling the soft curve of Loki’s cock just beneath him.

"Darling," he whispered, taking Loki's wrists and holding them up by his head. Nothing.

Very softly and incredibly deliberate, Tom moved his hips over Loki's, their groins rubbing deliciously together. Tom stifled a gasp, leaning forward to rest, forehead to forehead, on Loki. Moving again, he groaned, so quietly, but alarmingly to him, to be doing so alone. How he missed the noises Loki always joined with his, the clutches that were always stronger, the murmurs of _Thomas_ washing over him. He stared, willing Loki’s eyes to open, the long black lashes to flutter as his blurry gaze sharpened on Tom. He watched and hoped.

“Please.”

He gripped Loki's wrists harder, rolling his hips, back arching, lower belly rubbing against Loki’s navel.

“Loki,” he breathed, face lifted up to the ceiling, his body hardening against him. “Loki, please. I need you. Darling, wake up to me.”

And the room was silent save for his soft breathing, hitching and becoming heavier with every passing minute. The whir of the fan was so distant, but the incessant draft it created only further reminded him of how very much Loki loved the cold, how if not for the simple enchantment on his skin, Tom would embrace the true nature of his beautiful deity.

He let his head drop, inches from Loki’s face.

A tiny sob escaped his mouth, his brows scrunching with the rising expectation that Loki would wake. How he needed him. Needed to see those eyes, so vastly green, so reminiscent of the gentle country hillsides of his youth.

“Loki, please.”

Tom’s skin was heating up. The cold room had little effect on him now.

Rolling his hips, he groaned his god’s name, smile illuminating his face when he felt Loki’s cock hardening beneath him, tears blurring his vision of the shapeless ceiling. Looking back down again, his tears swam and gathered, distorting Loki before him.

“Yes, my love. Can you feel me? Please wake up. Now you’re just being cruel to me. You’ve slept and now I need you back. To see you. To hold you. To laugh with you and breathe in your scent. To meet with your inscrutable gaze, darling, I’m begging you.”

He ground harder, his own cock rising, his blood burning and hardening and pulsing.

“I feel you. Dammit, Loki. I know you’re feeling this, too.” His voice rose. He struggled to remain calm, so slow his sobs, to quiet himself.

He gripped Loki’s wrists, rocking his hips, letting Loki’s hard cock slide up next to his own. Reaching down, he took hold of both, moving them in and out of his tightening fingers.

He watched himself move and then froze, seeing Loki’s hand clench once out of the corner of his eye.

“Loki?”

Bracing himself, he gripped his chin and peered close. Loki frowned ever so slightly, but Tom saw it.

“Baby, it’s me. Sweetheart, wake up.”

Not wanting to waste a moment, Tom took the bottle of lube and slicked up his fingers. Leaning his weight forward, he reached behind and began preparing himself. One finger, two, he moved them in and out, stretching and widening, his lips at Loki’s neck, leaving tiny kisses on his jaw. Tom’s face and chest flushed with heat, silent gasps escaping his mouth.

With his weight locked forward, hips lifted in the air, Loki’s cock stood straight up. Tom could see it when he looked down between their bodies. Why had Loki not opened his eyes yet? His body was responding. Tom didn’t understand. Even now, he watched with wide eyes as Loki’s arms moved downward, hands moving to rest on Tom’s thighs. Whipping his head back up, he watched as Loki moved his head to one side, a tiny groan moving up his throat. But his eyes remained closed.

Was he still asleep?

And then Loki’s fingers on his thighs tensed and his hips lifted fractionally into the air. Loki was trying to rut upward, he realized.

Tom hesitated. Withdrawing his fingers, he settled back down to Loki’s waist, watching him.

So soft. His whisper was so soft. “Darling?”

Again, Loki’s hips lifted and Tom could feel his cock gliding up between his cheeks. His own cock lay heavily on Loki’s belly, swollen and leaking clear liquid. Loki’s head moved again, mouth parting slightly.

Hand trembling, Tom reached back and lined himself up with the head of Loki’s cock, the blunt tip wide and ready to breach him.

“Loki? Please?”

He lowered himself, inch by inch, pausing to adjust to the girth, panting, until he was seated flat on Loki’s thighs. He supported himself on Loki’s chest as, with timid movements, he began rocking forward and back.

Neck arched, Loki was making tiny moans that had Tom moving faster. He would wake. He would wake. Please let him wake.

“Goddammit, Loki,” he said through clenched teeth, his hands gripping at Loki’s chest so hard they would bruise a regular man. "Goddammit, please!"

His heart was bursting, this terrible sadness coursing up into his chest and settling heavily beneath his ribcage. He sobbed quietly, not wanting to blink in case he missed a single thing. Loki’s hands were like vises on his thighs, his moans more frequent.

Tom felt his climax like a coil in his abdomen. He refused to touch himself. He couldn’t. He angled down just an inch and Loki pushed up just enough and like a white light exploding behind his eyelids, Loki brushed that sensitive gland inside him. But it wasn't enough. Tom groaned when he brushed it twice more, making him buck in place, tears spilling from his tightly shut eyes. He gripped Loki’s face, mouths inches apart, and as Loki’s still sleeping face made the most tender grimace, Tom felt his climax hit him, his cock lifting in pulses, hot come jetting out to land on Loki’s chest. He cried out, riding Loki harder still, grinding low, taking him to the hilt.

He sobbed with his release, tears streaming down his face. And as is so often the case with them in all their history, his orgasm triggered Loki’s when, as he rocked forward again, Loki’s back arched and he groaned quietly, veins straining in his neck. Tom felt him come, his warmth coating him on the inside, pulsing and pulsing, there was so much of it. Trembling, Tom pushed himself further down, the warm liquid slowly seeping out around Loki’s still hard cock.

He held still, breathing heavily. Loki’s hands slowly fell from his legs to land limply on the bed. After a tense moment of terrible disappointment and deep sadness and shame, he lifted himself and winced, letting Loki slip out.

It was too much, this feeling. The disconnect was terrifying. He climbed off him, crawling to the edge of the bed and with shaking legs, stumbled to the bathroom, closing the door with a decisive click.

He slid to the floor, face in his hands, great heaving sobs wracking his body.

He wept, missing Loki, his come still warm and trickling down his leg. What had just happened? He had been so certain Loki would wake, why hadn’t he?

Wiping at his tears, Tom sniffed and tried to collect himself.

Climbing to his feet, he started the shower and quickly rinsed himself, crying quietly, unable to stop.

In the bedroom, he looked down at Loki, so wonderfully peaceful in sleep, his beauty seemingly more pure. He was striking when in deep thought, scowling. But here, resting finally, Tom was close to breaking down again.

“I’m sorry, Loki. I’m sorry. I tried to take you from this. Bring you back to me. You so obviously need it. And I’m sorry.” Rubbing his eyes, he knelt by the bed and began to clean his dried come from Loki’s chest, the cloth warm and moist.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, his free hand curled over Loki’s shoulder, skin warm and _his_ and _alive._

If he need wait longer, he will. He’d tried and failed. He smiled sadly, already chastising himself. No one could tell Loki what to do.

“You’re going to come back to me when you’re damn well ready, aren’t you?” He smoothed his brow. “Still didn’t stop you from enjoying my pathetic attempt, did it? Cheeky bastard.” He sighed. “My love. My god.”

Kissing his forehead, Tom breathed his name so quietly, and then stood to leave the room, closing the door behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

Two more days passed. Winter was settling in nicely, the city twinkling brightly in the early evenings. It snowed every day and Tom had to bundle up in jumpers and coats and scarves and gloves. He pressed a warm beanie on his head in the morning, the flakes catching on the curls peeking out at the nape of his neck. He would kiss Loki goodbye, stroking his brow, before forcing himself to leave.

Outside of work, he had less and less of an idea what to do with himself. His last interaction with Loki left him deeply ashamed and, apart from his goodbye kisses, he'd hardly been near him since. Running on the treadmill did nothing to distract him, only left him sore and aching in a way that taking a bath, lying alone and watching Loki through the open door, simply couldn’t relieve. At night, he would situate Loki in the middle of the bed, always afraid he would fall off. At one point he had half a mind to push him off. Maybe that would wake him up.

Crawling under the covers at night, Tom would lie quietly until finally drifting off, listening to the sound of Loki breathing. He would wake sometime later to Loki draped over him, limbs heavy on his own, breathing steadily at his neck. Eyes swimming, Tom held him close, wondering when this stubborn god would return to him.

It was a crisp evening when Tom left his office for home, having stayed longer to complete some files. He stopped by the chocolate shop in the nearest shopping plaza, taking a kind of personal delight in selecting the chocolates the girl behind the counter would wrap in a bright golden box.  On the drive home, the gear shift in his car was sticking, so he took his time maneuvering through the frozen London streets. Holding his scarf over his mouth, he slipped and slid his way to the front door, keys gripped in trembling fingers.

He’d barely managed to step into the house when hands were suddenly on him. He cried out, the golden box falling to the floor. He immediately thought it was a house break in. But then the door slammed shut as he was spun and pushed against the wall, lips warm and hard on his own. Eyes wide open in alarm, Tom caught sight of black hair and alabaster skin before his own eyes closed in heavy relief, groaning deep from his chest.

Loki kissed him harder and more desperate, his tongue twining with Tom’s, body flush against him. Pulling back, Loki whispered, "You were gone." His voice was scratchy and hoarse from lack of use and Tom clung to him all the harder for it.

"Work," he said. About to express how much he missed him, Loki interrupted him.

“Much longer than usual?”

Tom bristled slightly. “I could say the same to you.”

Loki paused, eyeing him. “You’re angry with me.” He bent and kissed his cheek, nudging his nose along Tom’s jawline.

“A bit. Yes.” He gasped when Loki bit his earlobe and moved his leg between Tom’s.

“My dearest love, I can’t have been asleep for very long,” he purred in Tom’s ear.

“Almost two weeks.” Despite the joy that was bursting in his heart, Tom was still upset, disliking how petty he sounded at the moment. It was more the hurt his own feelings caused him, missing Loki and the desperation his absence caused. He didn’t blame Loki. Not entirely. 

He tried stepping around him, his coat and scarf becoming unbearable in the heat of the house. But Loki held him fast, hands like clamps on his biceps. “I dreamt only of you. You and you, over and over again. There was no fear, no pain, nothing but you.”

Tom felt his resolve melting almost immediately. He could never stay angry at this beautiful creature. He sighed and slipped out of his embrace, unraveling his scarf.

“Thomas,” Loki insisted, hand gripping his coat. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be angry with you?”

Tom stopped, incredulous. “Why ever for?”

“As people on this world say, you _drugged_ me, Thomas.”

He almost laughed out loud at hearing Loki say it that way. “For goodness sake. I drugged myself. And I did it to help you.”

“Same thing! It affected me because we are connected through our love and my protection over you.” He pulled Tom close. “I never wanted you to see me like that. Ever.” The sadness in his eyes made Tom swallow his retort.

“I think I needed to see you that way, Loki. Your suffering was closed off to me and I couldn’t help you based on what I knew. I know now and that’s all that matters. It hasn’t changed how I feel for you. Is that what you were afraid of?” He cupped Loki’s cheek when he tried looking away, twining their fingers together. “I love you.”

“And I you, Thomas.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Loki looked down, crimson spreading over his cheeks. Tom stared, mesmerized at this rare occurrence. He traced his thumbs over the blush. “Perhaps,” Loki conceded.

“Oh, come off it. It did. You slept for two bloody weeks and not a single indication you were in distress.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “You’re taking a tone with me, Thomas. I expected a different welcome.”

He couldn’t help it. Tom looked down. “You’re right.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I cannot begin to explain how much I’ve missed you.” He touched Loki’s fingers. “My love.”

Loki was on him again, capturing his mouth in a hot kiss, clawing at his clothing. There was a fire in his eyes, making them brighter somehow, even heavy lidded as they were with desire.

“It was my mother, wasn’t it?” Loki murmured, mouthing at Tom’s neck, his fingers scrabbling to remove the heavy coat and unbutton Tom’s shirt. He pulled it off roughly, leaving Tom’s torso bare.

“Yes,” Tom said, gasping when he felt a shift in the air and suddenly they were in their bedroom. Loki pushed him and he fell on the bed, bouncing gently. Standing between his legs, Loki made quick work of his belt buckle, the leather snapping loudly when pulled from the loops.

“Thomas?”

Staring open-mouthed as Loki unzipped his pants and yanked them off, his entire lower body lifting in the air, Tom barely heard him. “Hmm?”

“Did you have sex with me?”

Tom almost choked on the air he was breathing, eyes widening. “W-what?”

“Because I had a dream where you had sex with me. It was most vivid.”

Tom let his head hang back, staring up at the ceiling. His face felt like fire. “Um…”

“Thomas. Answer me.”

He stammered, face brilliantly flushed. Loki eyed him wickedly, a new and daring energy emanating off his skin. Two weeks of sleep and Tom knew Loki was at a completely different energy level.

“Well, I-I-I…it wasn’t…I was only trying to—Loki, darling, please.”

Casting wide, guilty eyes up at Loki, he tried to convey how very sorry he was, how he didn't mean to take advantage of him, that--.

"You said a lot of that in my dream actually."

Tom groaned in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands.

"You, Thomas," Loki said softly, taking Tom's ankle and kissing his way up his calf, "can take or use me whenever and however you wish. I am yours. Eternally." Leaning forward, he grasped Tom's wrists and brought them away from his face, "Do you understand? I am yours. Yours to use as you wish."

Tom's tears blurred his sight. "I was only trying to wake you. I was-I was desolate without you. "

"I felt you, Thomas," he whispered as Tom sobbed quietly, clinging to Loki. "I felt you."

"I'm sorry," Tom said between hiccups. "It was selfish. And I'm sorry."

“Hush now, my pet. There is nothing to forgive. You were quite…rigorous.” He chuckled when Tom let out another sob. “No, don’t cry, my love.” He lay his weight on Tom, kissing his tear-stained cheeks. “I despise myself for not having awoken. But I do have an appetite for rigor just now, Thomas. Will you allow me this?”

“Anything, Loki. Anything.” Through closed eyes, Tom saw a bright light flash in the room and then quickly die out. He tried sitting up, but Loki held him down.

He gasped when, from out behind Loki, _another_ Loki walked into his line of vision.

“What?” he started, shying closer to Loki, _his_ Loki, eyes fixed on this…twin?

“Simply a double. Nothing to be afraid of.” He took Tom’s hand and placed it on his chest. “I am here, yes? I will never leave you. Do you trust me, Thomas?”

“Yes.” It was immediate. He did trust him, with his life, with his heart.

Loki kissed him  softly, so tender, and he immediately relaxed, despite his nervousness at having this other person in the room. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Loki made quick work of removing the rest of his clothing. In the blink of an eye both he and his double were also naked and Tom whimpered slightly at the formidable vision they made standing together.

Nudging his chin toward Tom, Loki watched as his double climbed the bed and lay by Tom’s side. Tom, knowing this wasn’t the real Loki, cringed slightly, but didn’t pull away, not entirely.

“Thomas,” Loki said, still standing by the bedside. “It is me, it’s alright.”

The clone waited until, after a small hesitation, Tom nodded. It reached forward and slid his hand up Tom’s chest, cradling his neck. Tom was still noticeably soft. Usually any physical interaction with Loki had him rock hard within moments, but he was a bit off center with this new development. This…this person looked just like his Loki, had his small smile, his warmth, his strong grip. And Loki was here with them. He would never hurt him.

Tentatively, Tom spread his fingers over the clone’s chest, watching as its eyes closed in pleasure. It leaned forward and nudged his forehead by Tom’s ear and it was so endearing, so loving, that Tom’s body loosened. Opening his arms, he embraced the clone, their lips locking, small moans passing between the two.

He jumped when Loki touched his hand to his ankle. “Good, my love. Feel us. I am there. And here. I am all around. Do you accept me all around you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tom moaned as the clone bit lightly at his neck. His cock was stirring, heat rushing to his center. The clone grasped his waist and rubbed their groins together, Tom bending easily under him.

Moving with this copy of Loki was becoming easier than he thought. Once his initial apprehension wore off, it was just like moving with Loki, the way the other overpowered him, rolling onto him, grasping his neck. Through it all, he was conscious of Loki walking around the bed, watching them, whispering how beautiful Tom looked. When Tom's fully hard cock slid up along the clone's, Loki climbed on the bed and knelt by Tom's legs. He grasped his knees and spread them, Tom whining against the clone's lips.

"Don't stop. Show me. Show us how much you love it."

With Loki between his legs and the clone spread neatly on top of him, Tom was gasping, overwhelmed, but it was true. He did love it. Everything the clone was doing came from Loki's mind, where Tom's desires and cravings and kinks were especially known. Nips at his collarbones, sucking bruises on his neck, licking his earlobe, the clone was drowning Tom in his own passion.

Fingers prodded at his entrance and his hips lifted automatically. Lubricant appeared there and on Loki's finger, pushing past the tight circle of muscle. Adding a second finger, he pushed in and in, more fingers, placing a hand on his belly, holding him still.

"Loki," Tom moaned, lifting his head to watch Loki work him open. The clone pressed his face close and watched with Tom, hand drifting down past his navel, tapping his leaking cock quickly.

Tom hissed and opened his legs wider. Loki slipped in a fourth finger, scissoring and circling. "I'm ready, dammit," he said, voice cracking.

"No, Thomas. Not just yet, my wanton love."

Confusion etched his face. "Wha--?" But the clone grasped his chin and turned his head to the side, claiming his lips.

Minutes passed and Loki worked him still, until Tom was writhing and the clone had to hold him down.

“Ahh!” he cried out, when Loki nudged at his prostate for what felt like the hundredth time. “Please! I can’t take it anymore.” His cock was heavy on his lower belly, a small puddle of pre-come gathered on his skin.

“You mustn’t come yet, Thomas. And we both know you can from only this stimulation.”

Tom’s chest and face flushed red. Loki smiled at him and it was beautiful and in there somewhere was a stunning power so terrible and boundless, but for which Tom had no fear.

Suddenly, the clone was gone and Loki snatched him up, like he weighed nothing, like Loki’s sleep rejuvenation had done his strength a mighty favor. Settling Tom on his lap, Loki rested against the pile of pillows.

Aligning himself up with Tom’s hole, Loki gripped his hips and whispered, “Ride me, Thomas. Like I know you did before.”

Eager to obey, Tom impaled himself in one swift move, both groaning at the sudden heat. Rocking his hips, he took him deep, holding his shoulders, kissing him.

“Yes, Loki, yes, please.”

He swayed over him, head thrown back, Loki at his nipple, biting, arms wrapped tight around him.

And then a body pressed against his back and he gasped, arching at the sudden contact. “Loki?”

He looked over his shoulder and saw that it was the clone. He lost his rhythm, disconcerted at seeing Loki’s calm face there as well as before him.

“Relax, my love,” Loki said, guiding Tom’s face back around. “I’m here. I need you to relax.”

“Loki, I don’t know if I can…” he said, realization dawning on him.

“You can. You will. I won’t hurt you. Lean toward me.”

Doing as he was told, Tom bent forward, exposing more of himself to the clone. Trying his best to keep still, Tom couldn’t help the small tremors that swept through his body. He flinched and whimpered against Loki’s neck when the clone’s cock pressed up against the tight skin hugging the cock already inside him.

“Breathe, Thomas. Breathe for me, darling.”

He inhaled and cried out softly, the clone pushing in a bit further. His upper body jerked and Loki wrapped his arms around his back, securing his arms and immobilizing him. “Breathe. Breathe, my love.” His spine was a rigid line, chest pressed tight against Loki, breath hitched and moaning.

Tears sprang to his eyes, but still the clone pushed, sliding in alongside Loki, burning, burning, burning, surely he couldn’t, surely not but suddenly he _was_ and they were both _in_ and he shuddered, this feeling of being so filled and stretched nearly blinding him.

His arms shook, sweat spotted his brow and Loki was looking up at him with eyes widened by love and pride and fierce protection.

They all held still, the clone laying gentle kisses between his shoulder blades.

“Thomas?” Loki breathed along his cheekbone, holding him close.

“Move, please. I need you to move,” Tom said, teeth gritted against the pain, receding already and being replaced by something warm and mind-altering, curling largely in his chest.

The clone linked its arm under Tom’s and wrapped it around his chest, clinching at the shoulder. Pulling back, it began pumping slowly while Loki stayed put, caressing Tom’s face. Tom winced at the drag and pull, but a small tendril of pleasure began curling its way up his belly. He arched, dizzy with the extra pair of hands and lips dancing over him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he choked out, eyes squeezed shut, when the clone snapped its hips forward. His arms gave out and he fell forward.

Loki took his weight. “My darling. You’re doing so well. Tell me what you feel, tell me everything.”

“So… _much_. I feel so much,” Tom murmured, rocking back against the clone, and Loki chuckled. “It’s amazing, Loki. I never thought…”

“I know. You’re glowing with it, Thomas. Feel me.”

Goosebumps erupted on Tom’s skin when the clone bent his head and bit at his neck. Loki propped his feet on the bed and lifted his hips just as the clone slid down. Tom cried out, never fully empty as Loki and his clone gained a pace that knocked his teeth together and made stars burst in his vision. That sensitive gland inside was being brushed over and over and tears fell from his eyes at the pleasure of it.

“Please, please, darling, don’t stop.”

Growling, Loki rutted up into him, fingers tight on his hips, the clone’s arms supporting Tom from above.

“Goddammit, I love you,” Tom whispered, grinding down on them both. How long they moved together, Tom didn’t know but then the clone slid down and Loki slid up, nudging at that perfect angle and he was coming hard, crying out, hands scrambling for purchase, gripping the pillow beneath Loki. Long strings of come spilled from his cock, landing on Loki’s chest and neck. Darkness crowded his vision and his body almost went limp when the clone’s arms tightened their hold and Loki took his head and lifted his face.

“No, no, no, Thomas, stay with me. Thomas!”

Tom blinked slowly and focused on Loki. They were still pumping and he whimpered quietly, the stretch becoming uncomfortable after his orgasm. He looked down, amazed that he was still hard, his erection rubbing a sticky line on Loki’s belly.

“Stay with me. Stay.” Reaching low, Loki gripped his cock and Tom bowed up, the clone soothing him with a hand to his throat.

“I can’t. Loki, I can’t. Please.”

“Hush now, Thomas.” Loki’s face was red and he pumped Tom’s cock as he lifted up into him. “Yes, darling. Yes. Do you want it all? Do you?”

“God, yes, Loki, fill me up with your come. I always want it.”

“My precious, filthy mortal…Ah!” Loki arched up as he came and Tom felt both cocks inside him pulsing, pushing up into him deeper still.

But Loki’s hand didn’t stop and Tom was shaking from overstimulation and his cock was throbbing and Loki’s fingers were tight and he sobbed when he came a second time, spilling only a trickle over Loki’s hand, but his vision clouded and there was a ringing somewhere and Loki was calling his name and he was falling and lips were at his neck and _I love you's_ were in his ear and this time he did go limp and fell off the edge of it all with a moan.

**

Sunlight on his face. He blinked and squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes. His bottom was extremely sore and he shifted, trying to ease the ache. Unexpected pleasure settled low in his belly and he startled, rising up onto his elbows.

Loki was lying between his legs, slowly licking and sucking at his cock, which was standing red and tall, the traitorous bastard.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he whispered, voice shot.

Loki smiled and took him deep in his throat, his hand wrapped around the base.

Clutching the sheets, he writhed, blazing under Loki’s attention, trying and failing to lift up into his mouth.

“Come, Thomas. Come for me,” Loki urged as Tom moaned. He moved his fist up and down his burning erection, the pleasure flashing down Tom’s body in a forced wave that nearly destroyed him.

When he came, his spine lifted from the bed while Loki hummed and swallowed what streamed out, licking at him with obvious delight. Tom fell back, gasping. “No more…no more, please.”

Kissing his way up his stomach, Loki curled up next to Tom, laughing quietly. “Very well, my mortal." He touched Tom's nose with a long finger. “I’ve missed you.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Tom said, fighting to stay conscious. "At least...at least I woke up for you."

Loki threw his head back, his laugh washing over Tom lovingly. “Do not be upset with me anymore, Thomas. I needed the rest.”

Tom nodded, sleep beckoning him. “Hmm. Yes,” he sighed. “That’s what Thor said, too.”

He felt it, when Loki froze. He felt it so keenly, the way the air went still and Loki’s hands tightened fractionally on him, and how could he be so thick as to let that slip now and yet he couldn’t avoid the pull of sleep and, in a last frantic silent apology, he gripped Loki to him, closing his eyes in what felt like a kind of defeat.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my readers asked if I would eventually write a chapter from Loki's POV and I finally did. Hope you enjoy :)

The breeze picked up, cold and harsh, sending drifts of white blowing past him. Sitting alone on a lawn chair meant for use only in warmer seasons, Loki leaned his head back and inhaled the brisk air into his lungs. Small flakes of snow tickled his face and caught in his black hair, gathering on the smooth skin of his chest.

A glimmer unfurled in his mind and he winced, heart thumping loudly.

 _Blond hair and a child’s reaching hand, a roaring all around him_.

_“Brother! Do not be afraid! I’ll catch you!”_

Loki’s brow furrowed but he couldn’t be rid of it, that voice, the upturned, expectant face.

_Smarting a bit. He wasn’t afraid! The big oaf would think that. How could he not know that he was never afraid when with him? The falls raging around him, sprays of water coating his face, green eyes closing, deep breath, launching himself down into Thor’s waiting arms._

_Tumbling they went, the rough stone rocks barely touching him as Thor took the brunt of their fall. Gasping, but safe._

_“You see, brother. Nothing will ever happen to you when I am near.”_

_A shifting, flickering light on the wall, two small voices echoing in the cavernous room. Another memory. Another time._

_“The flame…it does not burn you, brother?”_

_“No, Thor. It is just a heavier form of energy in my hands. Mother taught me. Look.” He tightened his fingers and burst them open, the flame rushing up and dissipating into the blackness above. Thor’s blue eyes widened past the cup of his hands, his smile big with excitement. Their laughter echoed together in the dark._

_Now older. Much older._

_Thor grasping at his arm, but Loki was slipping. “I could have done it, father!”_

_A whisper in return, barely heard, but understood nonetheless._

_And then Thor’s pained plea, seeing perhaps for the first time, the resolve on his brother’s face. “Loki, no!”_

_Wiggling free, he fell from that precipitous place, Thor’s disbelieving face the last friendly one he would see for a long time._

He opened his eyes, tears burning in the cold air, and dragged in a deep breath, the echoes of that moment fading in his ears.

Just in front of him, he stared at the singed outlying ring of the spot of dirt Thor must have landed on. Raising his eyes to the blinding sky, he imagined the inestimable space that separated him from his brother and mother and former home, and some remnant of his immense heart clenched in tender memory of them.

Unlike his nightmares, which before used to plague him only in slumber, memories of his brother often crept into his thoughts while awake. Their long youth, their long adolescence, their long years fully grown, warring and laughing and protecting each other. Such a rage it was to discover how different he actually was from Thor, how he wasn’t even of the same ilk as the mighty Thunder God. A weakling, a _runt_ , unwanted, abandoned, stolen away and raised to believe lies. Such vile thoughts taken in and planted deep so that they pulsed with every beat of his heart _unworthy unworthy unworthy._

Until his decision to retire to Midgard following his imprisonment, the last place he thought his brother would choose to find him, did he believe it all. Reveled in it, depended on it to aid in his destruction of what he felt hindered him the most.

Until seeing _him_ , chancing upon _him_ , that blessed mortal, who with a single glance or a choice word, rejected all other judgments cast upon Loki and, with just his acceptance of Loki as a lover and a friend and a protector, proved, just perhaps, his worth.

“My sweet Thomas,” he murmured into the wind, closing his sight to the unforgiving bleak clouds gathered above. He remembered the panic in Thomas’ exhausted face just before succumbing to the sleep that so readily pulled at his incredibly brilliant mortal mind, his body shutting down despite his evident worry that he’d disappointed Loki. It was a panic borne of confessing something he probably tried so valiantly to keep from Loki, but a confession he was sure would have been unnecessary had Loki been given the time to simply walk down the stairs and smell the air in the closed house. Thor’s scent was strong, that unmistakable spark that always lingered around Mjolnir, a burst of light that seemed to disappear but hang heavy, not unpleasantly, but uniquely. In one word, _lightning_ , the very energy that coursed through Thor’s veins, what bled from his wounds, what lit his eyes a dangerous blue unseen on this planet.

Loki frowned. Had he touched Thomas? Tried to force him in some way to explain Loki’s extended sleep, his entire absence from Asgard? Had Thor seen Loki, tried to wake him?

He sighed, suddenly fatigued.

There was no malice in his lover’s heart. Thomas claimed in the deepest part of him a kindness unlike anything Loki had ever been granted the privilege of knowing. His love was a gift Loki guarded fiercely in the colder region of his chest, feeling it thaw that terrible freeze that nearly laid him to waste after the worst moments of his immeasurably long life. How easy it was to let anger take root and grow wildly just under his skin. A great sorrow took hold of him on occasion when around Thomas, this bright star in his dark night. How could he have happened to him? He who was so undeserving? Thomas was unlike all other humans, those clumsy and thick-witted creatures that lacked his grace and golden nature. Only a rare few possessed the intellect Loki might be willing to contemplate, as he often discovered when reading through their vast book collection. But most were, to be completely honest, beneath him, and beneath Thomas, especially, even if he really did not think that way, much to Loki’s confusion. Could he not see how much better he was than the rest? How much more divine?

But Thomas…he was an altogether different kind of beautiful. Who was this person, he found himself thinking at times, watching Thomas hum under his breath while outside lovingly caressing the blossoms in their small garden or when he went about preparing for bed, laying his clothes out for the next day, locking all the doors and windows, even if Loki assured him that his protection spells would never allow an intruder into their home. Still, Thomas would say to him, one can never be too careful.

 _And you are my heart_ , Loki would think to himself. _No one will harm you. It will be their agonizing demise._ But he let Thomas go about his routine, all bustle and cheer. How he loved to sing, mostly to himself, or dance while cleaning. _Fool_ , Loki would have called him in another time, when another darker part of himself had dominated his thoughts and actions. _Fool_ , he would have sneered, never actually stopping to consider or become acquainted with the mortal, to know him and the chambers of his heart, full of a goodness of which, at that time, Loki had been deeply afraid. It was something he was still learning to do, not be wary of the inherent good inside a person like Thomas; no double standards, no hidden motives. Thomas loved him, plainly, all fire and gold to his frost and silver.

There were times Loki would catch himself staring at Thomas, at his bearing, his countenance, the way his face would break open in smile, in delight, in sheer wonder at the simplest things, the things he found the most beautiful. Despite their eerily similar appearance, Loki couldn't imagine his own face collapsing in sheer happiness, in laughter, like it did with Thomas, even if there were countless times when, in all their privacy, he would laugh quite openly with him, smile with him, _love plainly._ It was different seeing it on Thomas' face, it was simply _more_ , as he was with everything.

He looked down at his loosely closed palm, opening his long fingers outward to reveal three square chocolates. He’d retrieved the golden box after coming downstairs, lying on its side on the floor, the chocolates strewn across the floor. He’d startled Thomas when he'd arrived home, but Loki had been unable to wait a moment longer to have his hands on him.

He smiled softly, surprised Thomas hadn’t said something about it. He loved chocolates.

On his way outside, Loki took three with him after he picked up the rest, making sure they were still edible with a simple flick of his fingers. His cool skin and the general iciness of the day kept them from melting.

The golden box was on the table now, closed and presentable to Thomas, for whenever he awoke. An apology of sorts.

But he hadn’t eaten them, just held them softly.

A noise behind him, the rough slide of the glass door on its tarnished track, announced company. He held completely still. He hoped Thomas was wearing something warm.

“Darling,” Thomas whispered, standing just outside Loki’s field of vision.

He said nothing, just continued to stare straight ahead. The snow was coming down a bit harder now, thicker, catching in the breeze and swirling away.

Hearing Thomas shift beside him, how he wanted to see him, how he desired to hold him. Before he could turn, Thomas draped a blanket over Loki’s shoulder and lowered himself to his lap. He wrapped the blanket tight around them, curling his long legs over the side of the chair. Loki caught the wince on his face before Thomas snuggled close, burying his face in Loki’s neck, and Loki couldn’t help but lift his arms up, one hand still clenched around the chocolates, and snaked them around his waist.

Thomas. So warm, so entirely his.

He had a moment of abject terror, pulse sickeningly large in his throat, at the thought of losing him.

Thomas wore a wool knit cap and thick jumper, but still he shivered, clinging to Loki, never once protesting about being outside. Kissing his forehead, Loki pulled him closer in the quiet light.

“We cannot keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Keep being angry with each other.”

Loki sighed and hugged him. “I was never angry with you.”

Silence.

“When was he here?”

“Three days ago.”

“They know then.”

“Yes.”

So be it, he thought, already fortifying his mind against whatever might come. But why should anything come? He owed them nothing, or they him. Why the need to know anything about his life here with Thomas?

“Thor…he…did he hurt you?”

“No, my love. Although he is very intimidating, to be sure.”

Loki tightened his arms around him.

Thomas continued, detailing what Thor asked of him, requesting to see Loki. Even with the forthcoming information, he had the feeling Thomas was withholding something.

“What is it? What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing. I tried to stop him, but…well, he assured me he would persuade me otherwise.”

“He threatened you.”

“I took it as a hollow threat. At least, he seemed fairly confident I would cave due to my fear. And he was right. I took him to you. I didn’t know else to do,” he whispered. “I tried asking you. I tried, Loki. I asked you what I should do and you…you didn’t wake for anything.” He squirmed closer, breaths vaporizing in the air.

Laying a kiss on his forehead, Loki relayed, in this small way, how very sorry he was for disappointing him, for abandoning him, for making him feel so helpless.

“What then?”

“He told me that Heimdall had reported that you were in a sleep from which you hadn’t awakened and that that was part of the reason why he came to find you.”

“Part?”

“Yes. He said he mainly wanted to speak with you. But he didn’t give me details about what.”

Loki stayed quiet.

“He knelt down by the bed and touched your hand softly. He called you ‘brother.’”

“Well then.” He sniffed and turned his head to the side, staring with great interest at the row of bushes lining their yard.

“I thought he wasn’t supposed to be able to find you.”

“He wasn’t. I suppose Frigga was involved.” Of course his mother would want him and Thor to reconcile. If she felt it was the right time, she would not hesitate to aid in their reunion.

Thomas kissed his neck. “She misses you.”

Not able to respond to that, he bent his head. “Here,” he whispered. “I have something for you.” He unclenched his hand beneath the blanket and Thomas looked down, delight widening his eyes.

“Mine,” he said, smiling. He took one and popped it into his mouth, eyes closing as his taste buds burst to life beneath the chocolate and caramel.

“You’re mine,” Loki said, meeting his gaze.

Mouth full, Thomas nodded eagerly, raising his head for a kiss. He had already swallowed his treat but Loki’s tongue slipped out to open his lips, earning him a taste of the sweet candy. He moaned, mouth widening their kiss, wanting to devour him.

He was aware of how badly Thomas was shivering, so he stood abruptly. Thomas gasped, breaking the kiss, clinging to his neck and shoulders. Loki carried him inside and closed the door with a crisp click. He set Thomas on the floor, but kept him in his arms, warming him as best he could.

Dropping the remaining two chocolates on the table, Loki led Thomas to the living room and lay down on the sofa. Thomas climbed on top, stretching out the length of his body, resting his head in the crook of Loki’s neck. Draping the blanket over them again, they fell into a comfortable silence. He could feel the relief draining out of Thomas’ body, relief at Loki finally knowing the truth. Dishonesty or concealment came unnaturally to him, Loki knew.

“Are you well, Thomas?” he asked, when he shifted for the third time.

“Yes, I’m just…a bit sore, is all.”

Loki stroked his hair, fingers carding through the blond curls. “Did you enjoy it?” There was a small note of trepidation in his voice, a hint of worry that Thomas hated what they did.

Thomas lifted his head. “Yes, very much so. I almost didn’t expect you two to…well, fit.” He smiled sheepishly, blushing.

Loki kissed his forehead. “I would never allow you to be hurt, Thomas. I was guarding you from that pain. There is meant to be some pain, at first, until you become accustomed to it. But the pleasure is beyond what you’ve experienced?”

Thomas nodded his head. “Yes, my love. It was.”

They lay in relative silence, Thomas no longer shifting after Loki lay his hand softly on his bottom, extending a spell that removed all remaining discomfort.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”              

“May I ask you about your dreams and what we…what we saw that night?”

“If you must.”

“Well, those rooms, the caverns. Are they representations of what you experienced in reality?”

“They are accurate depictions of what I experienced. Direct flashes of memory.”

Thomas shivered and burrowed closer. “My darling…why ever was this done to you?”

There was fear in his whisper, but more sadness than anything.

“A great and terrible being was my captor for an extended period of time. He had ways of convincing me of things.”

“But your family. Where was Thor? Why has help not given?”

“Thor was not in a position to help me. No one knew of my location, or even that I still lived. Our parting was sudden and Thor believed me dead. I do not…I do not blame him for that, however much I may have led him to believe I did, afterward.”

He said this quietly, feeling Thomas’ breath on his skin, the way his fingers circled Loki’s wrist.

It was true; Thor had expressed deep regret over not knowing Loki’s fate, insisted that had he known Loki was still alive he would have gone after him, saved him. It was all words to Loki. He had been too deeply mired in his hatred, in his belief that his fate had been irrevocably altered beyond repair. He had relished in the guilt etched over Thor’s usually amicable and heroic features, the brawn made to look diminished under the heavy weight of Loki’s barrage of blame.

“He loves you,” Thomas was saying, drawing him from his thoughts. “The day he was here, the way he looked at you. And even what I saw in your mind. One of the rooms in the nice part of your subconscious showed you and him on horseback, laughing. You appeared very young. He called you ‘brother’, just like here at the house.”

“Yes, he often calls me that. And I, him. That memory is about a time he and I went hunting. I remember it so clearly, he was so certain that it would be a clean kill, and how I taunted him that a spear would be insufficient to kill the great stag, but he was, and continues to be, incredibly stubborn and was adamant that he would make it work. Well, we ended up tracking it for nearly three days as it slowly bled to death. It suffered greatly, and unnecessarily. I must have made some untoward comment on his lack of grace when in the blood lust, but Thor was and is still the strongest being I’ve ever encountered. Joining his physical strength to the size of his heart, there is none to equal him. It was always like that with us. Great affection showed through jest and feigned over-competitiveness.”

“You speak of him fondly.”

Loki swallowed, the ceiling fan whirring above them. “He was my brother.”

Thomas raised his hand and touching his chin softly. “ _Is_ your brother.” When Loki said nothing, he frowned and cocked his head adorably, so much so that Loki’s skin warmed at the sight. “What happened?”

“With what, Thomas?”

“With everything.”

“It’s simple, really. We grew distant, worlds apart. He was the embodiment of everything I wished I was and could never be, and my new and constant rage was something with which he could not compete. I closed myself off and I know it hurt him.” He paused, feeling the tears pricking his eyes, even after all this time. Damn this weakness. He loathed his own tears, lifting his hand to wipe at them hurriedly. “But I was hurt, too. I was hurt and no one could see that. No one.”

He moved suddenly, sitting up so that Thomas nearly fell from the sofa. He steadied him, the worry on Thomas’ face bringing new tears to his eyes. “I wish not to speak of this.”

“Darling, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. Please forgive--.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Thomas!”

Thomas paled, his eyes widening in shock. Loki sighed.

“You never have to beg forgiveness. Not from me. You are the only thing I don’t regret. The only thing in my damnably long life. Do you understand? I would take you and keep you and burn this world if you so desired, for despite my ardent belief that I am no longer that heartless wretch from before, you make everything different and I would obey your every command and it would the simplest thing because it is _you_ and no one can ever possibly conceive of knowing the claim you have on me because I’ve opened myself to you and it was a choice I made _willingly._ And those early days when we first met, how I battled with myself, telling myself to leave, that I would hurt you, that I would scar you, that I would in some way ruin you because that’s what I’ve always done, but you wouldn’t allow it, I knew it in my heart. You are seeped into my very bones and the more I struggled with convincing myself to leave you to your life without me, the more you showed me how I no longer had any desire to go. You became my reason for…for everything. To begin anew, to release my anger, to forgive possibly Thor, possibly myself.” He looked down, tears swimming in his vision. “I haven’t figured out which I wish to do least.” He laughed humorlessly, anxious to look at Thomas.  He kept his eyes down.

After a long moment, Thomas slid to the floor and knelt before Loki, his hands coming up to caress his knees.

“I would never ask you to burn this world, or any world for that matter. But I do appreciate you telling me how you feel, even if I think it pained you to do it.” Loki began to shake his head, but Thomas quieted him. “Enough. It’s not part of your nature to be so forthcoming and I understand that, darling.”

“There was a time when I would never have allowed myself to tell you any of this. I am so wary of what I give of myself being used against me.”

“Not here, my love,” Thomas whispered, wiping Loki’s tears with his thumbs. “Not with me. Okay? So you let go of that fear, because it won’t happen with me. And together, you and I will prevent others from hurting you. They will rue the day they hurt the man I love,” he said, smiling when Loki smiled.

“My lion.”

Thomas leaned his forehead on Loki’s. “Your lion.”

**

Loki woke from sleep that night with Thomas curled away from him. He was breathing so quietly, so soundly. He watched him, the curve of his spine, the straight and lean hips, his feet tucked under Loki’s legs. Slowly, he slipped closer, trailing his lips from Thomas’ shoulder to the nape of his neck, sucking lightly at the skin there. Thomas moaned and Loki’s body responded to the quiet sound.

“Thomas,” he murmured.

Thomas mumbled something, but remained asleep. Loki breathed his name into the blond curls and Thomas turned onto his back. Loki burrowed into his side until he awakened fully, voicing his concern, was Loki alright, did he need anything?

“You,” he whispered. “Please.” He pulled at Thomas until he lay over Loki, opening his legs to cradle him. Thomas suddenly understood and kissed his mouth, his hands scrambling to pull down his boxers. “Yes, please. Quickly. I need you.”

Pressing their bodies together, Thomas nudged at his entrance, pushing inside so slowly, so carefully and Loki huffed in frustration because he didn’t need slow or careful, not now. He hissed and grabbed at his buttocks, pulling Thomas closer, further in, fast.

“Fuck, Loki,” Thomas gasped, hands tightening on Loki’s body.

“Harder, Thomas. Do not hold back. Take me hard.”

Grabbing his neck, Loki sank his teeth into the tender skin and Thomas cried out, ramming his hips forward. Loki groaned but didn’t let go. His cock was stiff between their bodies, Thomas’ soft trail of hair on his lower belly rubbing against it.

Reaching up, Loki took a handful of blond curls and pulled to the side, exposing more of Thomas’ neck to him.  He licked and bit at it, sucking a bruise along the raised vein.

“Do not stop, my dove. I want you to spill in me. Fill me to the brim. Please.”

Thomas groaned and picked up his pace, his hips smacking into Loki, who locked his long legs around his back. He arched when Thomas’ nails dug into the meat of his thigh, holding him close with the movement of his thrusts.

Thomas growled low in his throat and Loki released his neck, his teeth marks red and deep on his skin. He yanked his head from Loki’s grasp and took hold of his black hair, so long. He pulled so that Loki’s neck arched up and, his hips thrusting strong, slowly crept his other hand up Loki’s chest to wrap around his neck. Loki’s eyes went wide but he angled his head further back, offering himself up to Thomas, who usually enjoyed when Loki was the aggressor, oh but what a delight when Thomas used his strength on him.

"Yes," he whined, when Thomas squeezed his neck, long fingers wrapping so wonderfully around his throat. “Yes,” he rasped.

“Quiet,” Thomas growled, bearing down, hips snapping forward, his weight choking Loki’s airway. Black began to creep into his vision, Thomas’ face swimming in the center. The combined pressure of his body and that long white hand around his neck, Loki came with a shudder, a gasp in his throat. Light burst before his eyes and his mouth opened in a silent cry.

“That’s it, darling. Just like that,” Thomas murmured above him, loosening his grip on Loki’s neck. Loki’s body was tight beneath him and Thomas gathered him close, pumping hard until with a muted groan, he came in him.

Yes, this is what he waited for. He adored how Thomas’ entire body clenched, how he couldn’t seem to get close enough to Loki as his orgasm ripped through him. And of course, there was his come, filling him thickly, that last desperate thrust into him.

They lay closely together, tangled together, breathing together.

“Quiet, my love,” Thomas whispered, caressing his hair, his body still trembling from his release. “Quiet, now. I’m here.”

And Loki quieted, knowing, as he pressed his lips to Thomas’ neck, that there would be no fear that night.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so, sorry for the wait. But I just kept writing and writing and I finally edited it last night. This is a longer chapter, hope you all don't mind :)
> 
> Thank you again for reading and your lovely, encouraging comments! They are much appreciated <3

There was nothing more wonderful for Tom than to see the delight that always broke over Loki's face at the sight of snow.

It was a sudden thing.

They would be together in the kitchen, Loki helping him chop vegetables or perhaps trying to sneak food straight from the pan so that Tom would have to shoo him away, or maybe he would be lingering next to Tom as he worked in his study, balanced on the edge of the desk, watching Tom, always watching.

But then he would go still and his gaze would be drawn to whichever window was closest. He would stand and tilt his head, as if listening. And then he would smile, eyes closed, brilliantly. Next thing Tom knew, Loki would be standing outside in the midst of it, face turned to the sky, flakes of snow catching on his lashes and gathering in his palms. Safe in the warmth of their house, Tom would look out at his lover and smile.

London could become unbearable in the summer. Humidity and heavy air pressing in on damp skin, suffocating one during a mail run or a simple walk for a coffee. After a particularly bad summer last year, watching Loki slink about the house, drained of energy, sweating, wearing very little clothing and sleeping all the time, he feared that Loki had somehow gotten sick. Worried, Tom had brought him cold compresses, placing them on his head and neck so that Loki groaned in relief. The next day, Tom had found Loki dozing on their bed, breathing shallowly, clean sweat staining the sheets. He had a sudden thought and burst into action. He drove to the nearest convenience store and purchased four bags of ice. Back home, he filled the tub with the frozen cubes and set the shower head to spray only cold water. He took Loki’s hand and guided him from the bed, Loki protesting vaguely. But catching sight of what Tom had prepared for him, he visibly brightened and stepped in on his own. Laying on the ice with water flowing over him, Loki had appeared a long forgotten mythical creature, which in all irony, he actually was. His relief was almost sexual, stretched out languidly in the tub, nude, small moans of pleasure bubbling up his throat. Seeing the change some ice and cold water could do, Tom finally asked him about it. Loki had admitted that before meeting Tom, he would simply travel the earth as the seasons changed, chasing the cold weather, never staying in a place that showed the first signs of spring.

“But, love…how do you bear it, then? Living here with me when summer comes round?” Tom had felt terrible about it; this immense guilt at being the reason Loki hadn’t sought the comfort to which he was accustomed.

“Enough of that now,” Loki had said, tilting Tom’s chin up, fisting his blond curls gently. “I do not ‘bear’ it here with you. You are my heart. I thrive in your love; it sets me ablaze in a way I cannot liken to physical heat. It is internal and I am dependent on it now, my mortal. And if I at times feel this planet is conspiring to slowly melt the skin from my bones, that has nothing to do with you. Understand?” He kissed his way down Tom’s neck and Tom, shivering, murmured a soft, “ _Yes, Loki_.” Since that time, the bathtub full of ice became routine for when the heat became too much for Loki.

Now, later in the week, Tom was at his desk thinking about that long ago conversation. It was late November. They had a few more months of cold left yet. He was considering taking a vacation toward the end of next summer, when the heat would be at its peak. He might be able to take off a month, maybe more. While others would seek the warmth of tropical or exotic locales, he was pondering heading north with Loki. I’m sure he’d like that, he thought with a smile, finishing up with his last file.

Tom’s thoughts had been straying to that night a week ago when Loki had woken him up, desperate for him, when he had wrapped his hand around Loki’s neck and felt him seize up as he came, Tom’s name a gasp on his lips. It was enough to make his body warm and he would quickly have to think of other things before he embarrassed himself. But he and Loki had rarely spent a minute apart since that day, aside from when it was absolutely necessary, like when Tom was at work. Loki, an extremely physical being, would always be touching him somehow, hand on his ankle, on his neck, arm around his waist; fingers playing in his hair, kisses on his shoulders that strayed to more intimate places while Tom was intent on handling this or that domestic chore, so that on more than one occasion, he would flip a breathless Tom over the counter or the table or the back of the sofa and take him with complete abandon, rutting into Tom fast and hard as fevered whispers of _I love you, Thomas_ flowed into his ear. At night, he would practically crawl into Tom’s lap and fall asleep unabashedly peaceful, curled up on his chest, fingers around his wrist.

There were no more dreams. At least, there were no more nightmares. Loki still dreamt. He still murmured in his sleep, sometimes in English, sometimes not. He heard his name often enough, lying in their bed, listening to him. He liked to touch Loki’s face, trace his eyebrow or cheekbone with a fingertip, until Loki scrunched his nose and cuddled closer, never waking.

_Thomas._

Tom startled, his pen smearing a line on the document before him. He looked around his empty office, searching for the voice, and then finally behind him at the window. Standing, he looked out and there on the ground floor stood Loki, watching him. He was just beneath one of the arches in the courtyard of his office building, wearing a pair of Tom’s dark blue jeans and a light grey jumper. He was laughing, amused that Tom had been startled. White flurries of snow were falling steadily, catching on the bare branches of the trees, but Loki was clearly seen through it all. His white skin and black hair made his green eyes more startling in the thin air and Tom stopped breathing for a moment. He pressed his hand against the glass and Loki responded by putting his hand on his chest.

Spinning, he shut down his computer and put away his paperwork. Emily had already gone for the evening, thank goodness for that. She might insist on him walking her to her vehicle or perhaps grab a pint at the pub down the street. The lights outside his office were already turned off, so he locked his door and took the elevator down to the first floor.

When Loki caught sight of him he smiled wide and Tom slowed his walk, staring. His smiles really were absolutely stunning.

"I apologize. I did not mean to alarm you."

Taking Loki's bare hand in his gloved one, he said. "Sure you didn't. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"Take me to dinner, Thomas," Loki said, leaning low to kiss Tom's cheek.

Tom laughed easily. "Right away, love."

Forgoing the car, they walked arm in arm through London's brightly lit streets. Strings of twinkling lights flickered merrily over shop doorways and across bigger intersections. A park they passed was flowing with people, classical holiday music playing softly from well-concealed speakers. They stopped just outside the intricate ironwork bordering the park to watch. A giant ice rink was crowded with people bundled up in coats and scarves and mittens, some gliding smoothly over the powdered ice, while others skittered nervously on stiff legs, arms held out for balance.

"How wonderful," Tom murmured, loving how happy everyone seemed. He leaned up against a stone column near the entrance and felt Loki slip closer to him.

 His voice, velvet-lined, came to Tom's ear:

_...I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_

_in secret, between the shadow and the soul..._

_...I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._

_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_

_so I love you because I know no other way._

_than this: where_ I _does not exist, nor_ you,

                _so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_

_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._

 

Tom turned to face him and without speaking, wrapped his arms around Loki's neck, thanking him silently. "I love you, too, Loki."

Voice muffled against his shoulder, Loki said, "Play."

Tom pulled back, smiling. "Ah, but this is an easy one. A very famous poem. Let's see...Sonnet…oh what is it? Seventeen?"

Loki nodded, mirth dancing in his eyes.

"Neruda, Pablo. Chilean."

"My mortal is exceedingly clever," Loki said, kissing his neck softly.

“Mmm, but that isn’t the entire poem. What happened to the rest?”

“I only spoke the parts that meant the most to me.”

"But of course," Tom said with a wink.

Loki kissed his temple and then took his hand, leading him away from the park.

Tom chose a tiny Italian restaurant at the corner of the next street. A secret pleasure of Loki's was pizza, something Tom had been entirely too amused about when he discovered this fact.

"Had you never had it?" he'd asked early in their relationship, watching Loki consume his eleventh piece.

Loki gave him as serious a face as he could while his mouth was stuffed with pizza. "I assure you, Thomas, there is no such thing as this on Asgard."

Tom had only smiled as Loki, usually so delicate with his cuisine and table manners, folded a slice in half and took another huge bite, eyes closed in rapture.

Now, spotting the name printed on a swinging sign out front, Loki's eyes widened with expectation. "I am so in love with you, Thomas," he said reverently, not looking at Tom all.

Tom laughed openly. "Oh, I bet you are."

The sweet aroma of dough and cheese and spiced tomato sauces wafted out the front door as they walked in. They were seated at a corner table, their view of the street obscured slightly by a giant potted plant. Still, if they leaned a small degree to the left they could see the street outside, already layered with freshly fallen snow.

The interior of the restaurant was toasty warm. Loki removed the grey jumper to reveal a simple white shirt underneath. Tom did the same with his black coat and matching gloves. Unwinding the cream colored scarf from his neck, he draped it over the back of his chair and rubbed his hands together for blood flow.

Despite the weather, Tom was in the mood for an ice cold Coca Cola. When the server arrived he ordered one for each of them.

"We'll also get the extra-large thin crust pizza with olives and mushrooms."

The waiter's eyes flashed quickly between the two of them, no doubt wondering how two slim men such as themselves would be able to finish so much food. Tom smiled kindly and handed him their menus, recognizing him as a young server with little experience. Anyone else would have been quick to hide their surprise. "And an order of garlic bread. Anything else?" he asked Loki, who was facing the potted plant. He shook his head and Tom thanked the waiter.

"Is it so hard to thank the person who serves you?" Tom said, fiddling with the container of packaged sugar.

Loki made a noncommittal gesture and kept staring at the plant. His eyes were distant and his dark brows drawn together.

"What is it?"

Loki frowned, but shook his head as if to clear it. "Nothing. Sorry."

The waiter brought their bread and sodas and Tom and Loki fell into a conversation about literature. Loki was currently reading through every one of the books in Tom's study. He would sometimes come home to find Loki hunched over his laptop, searching out answers for questions he had about this or that topic, the World Wide Web something of a fascination for him. His reading had dropped off a bit as of late, his nightmares, lack of sleep and general worry over the constant attention from Asgard distracting him from it.

"There's a poetry reading at the university next weekend. Would you like to go?"

Loki chewed at a piece of bread, nodding. "With you, yes." And then his face brightened when their pizza arrived, not bothering to acknowledge the young server. Tom kicked him under the table and Loki looked up, eyes flashing. Tom gestured with his head to the boy placing utensils and napkins next to their drinks.

Loki's face steeled over but he turned to the waiter and smiled tightly. "Thank you." He was practically sneering and Tom narrowed his eyes at him. The waiter blanched slightly and quickly left.

"Are you happy now? He probably just quit his job."

"Irrelevant," Loki said, snatching up a slice, eyes glazing over at his first bite of hot pizza.

Tom picked up his own slice and bit into it, making sure his moan at the taste of oregano and cheese was slightly louder than usual. Loki stopped chewing and looked at him, eyes darkening with interest. “You know,” Tom said, chewing and wiping at his lips with a napkin. “One of my first jobs was as a waiter. Some people were exceedingly kind, but honestly, those were a rare few. Most often, I was treated as below everyone else, spoken to rudely, barely tipped, ignored.”

Loki swallowed and sat back.

Tom continued eating, eyes on his pizza. “It’s a humbling profession, in my opinion. Those who are kind enough to serve you should be treated with respect and dignity.”

Loki put his slice down and reached across the table to touch Tom’s hand. “I have offended you.” Tom said nothing and took a sip of his soda. “I was raised differently in a vastly different place. I apologize.”

“It’s not about how or where one was raised. There are people here who did not have your royal upbringing and still are unpleasant. It’s about being good to those around you.”

“I understand. I will try, Thomas.”

“Thank you, love.”

The waiter returned to refill their sodas and Loki turned to him, leaning close, his voice almost a purr. “Thank you, young man. Your service has been most appreciated. What is your name?”

The boy’s eyes widened. “M-Michael, sir.”

Loki smiled, wide and brilliantly, and Tom felt an irrational stab of jealousy. “Well, thank you, Michael.”

The waiter reddened a bit and backed away, stuttering that he would be back to check on them.

Tom raised his eyebrows. “And now he’s in love with you.”

“Too much?”

"Just a tad.”

"It worked on you," Loki said slyly.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"That I do."

“And I’m yours.”

“That you are.”

Loki chuckled.

"You always manage to turn it around. I was only trying to teach you a lesson."

"Mmm, but just wait until I teach you yours, Thomas." 

Tom flushed red and he looked down, trying to calm his heart rate, a small smile on his lips.

They returned to their meal, Loki’s legs snaking out to bracket Tom’s.

He would probably only be able to have three or four slices, but Loki would handle the rest. He was already on his fifth slice and had eaten half the basket of garlic bread.

“You are insatiable.”

And Loki grinned widely, his teeth white. “You would know, Thomas.”

Tom rolled his eyes and took another bite.

A short while later, he was leaning back in his chair near to bursting, while Loki finished the last slice. The waiter refilled their cups and lingered, providing more napkins, asking if they needed anything else. Loki assured him they did not and Tom asked for the bill.

He was leaving a tip on the table when Loki stood to put his sweater back on. He was handing Tom his coat when he suddenly froze and turned to the window, being able to look out at this height. He paled, eyes widening in shock that quickly turned to near outrage.

“What is it?” Tom whispered, quickly donning his coat and scarf. He turned to see what had caught Loki’s attention and there, just outside the restaurant window, stood Thor.

He was across the street, outside a cheery looking candle shop, his red cape billowing in the cold air.

“Sweet God,” Tom murmured, his heart rate spiking.

“Not yours,” Loki answered gravely, taking his arm and leading him out of the restaurant.

Michael, the waiter, stood at the front counter. “Have a lovely evening. Hope to see you again.”

“Thank you! Good night,” Tom managed before Loki pushed out the front door.

Waiting until a few cars passed, they stood hand in hand. Tom could feel him shaking and he tightened his grasp, rubbing his hand soothingly.

“Thomas, you will listen to me, whatever I say, yes?”

“I doubt there is any danger--.”

“Thomas. Will you listen?”

“Yes, Loki, of course I will.”

When the coast was clear, they crossed. Thor watched as they approached, hammer clutched in one hand.

“Brother,” he said, eyes softening on Loki.

“Fool!” Loki said. “You’ll cause a scene!” Already they’d attracted the notice of a few holiday shoppers. Loki flicked his wrist and all curious gazes turned to looks of confusion, the people turning this way and that, as if wondering where they had gone. And then their faces cleared, as if forgetting they had been there all along, before turning and continuing on their way.

“Still up to your tricks, brother,” Thor said affectionately, looking at the passersby.

“I had to make them forget your presence. Making us invisible was the fastest recourse.”

“And what about him?” Thor said, gesturing to Tom. “How do you explain away his likeness to you?”

“I never have to or ever intend to,” Loki practically hissed, pulling Tom closer to him. “Why are you here?”

Thor said nothing, simply stared at his brother, a small smile on his face. He turned to Tom.

“Thomas. How fare you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” Tom stared at his eyes, the most startling thing about him, save for his height and powerful frame. His eyes and that startling blue color, like lightning. Tom saw that he still had two tiny braids in his hair.

“Answer me, Thor.” Loki took a step toward his brother, his body tight with tension. Tom grasped his arm with his free hand, Loki’s grip on his fingers nearly painful.

“Darling, perhaps you two should speak somewhere more private.”

“Yes, perhaps we should,” Thor said in that rumbly voice.

Loki cursed under his breath but then Tom felt that dizzying effect he was so familiar with and clutched at Loki before the three of them appeared in his living room. Loki steadied him and then stood half in front between him and Thor.

The tension was palpable and Tom was confident a fight wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibilities. He could only imagine the destruction these two in a skirmish could cause.

“Um, why don’t we just sit down here? Okay?” He tried to push Loki toward the couch, but the god was immovable, his feet squared, stance tense. He turned to Thor and gestured to a side chair. “Please, have a seat, Thor. Would you like anything to drink?”

Thor and Loki were having a staring contest that would make most six-year-olds proud.

“No, Thomas. You have my gratitude.”

Tom felt at a loss. Whatever was happening between the two brothers was entirely foreign to him. He’d never been at such a point where rage and miscommunication tore him from someone he loved dearly. Having no siblings, he went without the usual spats and disagreements that would condition him to handle a situation like this. He sighed.

“Alright, that’s enough. Sit down, the both of you.”

They turned to him.

“Now,” he said.

Thor was the first to move, surprisingly. He stepped to the chair Tom had indicated earlier and set his hammer on the coffee table before taking a seat, appearing too big for it, for nearly everything in their home.

Tom turned his back to him and faced Loki, putting a hand on his cheek. “Darling?” Loki blinked and looked at him. “Sit here on the sofa. Alright?” Loki finally complied, settling stiffly on the cushions, eyes back on Thor.

“I am going into the kitchen while you two talk.” He squeezed Loki’s fingers and winked at him. “Behave yourself,” he whispered and thought he heard Loki growl before he left the room.

The energy was much lighter in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and expelled a nervous breath. He wasn’t entirely sure it had been the smartest idea to leave the two of them alone, but he didn’t think they would be able to say whatever they needed to with him present.

Bringing out what he would need to make some tea, he thought about Thor’s sudden appearance, entirely unexpected for both him and Loki. But Loki had sensed something. Back at the restaurant, he had been withdrawn at the beginning of their meal, staring at the potted plant next to their table. Had he felt something was off? Had he known Thor had arrived? But Tom didn’t think so. He would have insisted on leaving the restaurant, the city, the continent.

He rubbed his eyes wearily and loosened his tie, relieved that the next day was Saturday. He took off his coat and scarf, draping them on the back of a stool.

From the next room, he heard voices talking quietly and his heart clenched for Loki in this position, knowing how much he loathed being taken by surprise, his brilliant mind probably going a mile a minute.

He put it off for as long as he could, but guilty feeling be damned, Tom ignored his ethics and tiptoed to the kitchen’s entrance, tilting his head to eavesdrop.

“—especially considering how well your mortal looks.”

“And why wouldn’t he be?”

A space of silence. “Your attachment is as mother depicted.”

“Oh, do you and Frigga have lovely conversations about me, hmm?”

_Be nice_ , Tom pleaded in his mind.

“Do not pretend you do not miss her.”

Silence. And then: “Why are you here?”

“We left things unfinished, brother.”

"Hardly. We all know my origin story. I do not need to hear your pity that it wasn’t all truth as we imagined, that had it not been for the fact that I was an unwanted child we could have been true brothers—.”

“I do not see what that has to do with us being broth—.”

“So you admit it. I was unwanted.”

“Enough!” Tom jumped at the word, sounding harsher coming from someone like Thor. “What’s happened to you? You are, and have been for a long time, greatly altered. ”

“Am I? Are you afraid of this new me? Do I make you uneasy?” A pause. Then he sighed. “This is all ancient history, Thor.”

“Loki—.”

“Why do you always insist on unearthing what should stay buried?”

“Because something happened to you! You were taken from us and I want to know WHY!”

Tom cringed at the volume of Thor’s voice, worried that the neighbors might come inquiring if anything was the matter.

“You know why,” Loki said, voice at a dead whisper. “Odin made it very clear I was unwanted--.”

“He did not say--.”

“—but before that, that I was meant to rule. I was only doing what I felt was my right—.”

“This is not about that.”

“Oh, but it is, Thor. It all stems from that, doesn’t it? Or would you deny it?”

Thor sighed. “I do not. You were confused about many things—.”

“Misinformed, is more like it.” They were quiet. “Falling from that bridge was at that moment the most liberating thing I could do for myself. It was only my most sincere misfortune to have landed in the hands of--.” He stopped.

“Whose hands, brother? Who hurt you?”

Tom could picture Loki sitting there, hand against his forehead, struggling to find the words.

“It doesn’t matter now. I did what I did and I was punished for it. I have no reason to go back to Asg--.”

“And what of us? Mother and I? Are we nothing? You are angry with Odin, I understand.”

“How can--,” Loki started.

“But mother and I…we love you. It’s been years since your attack on Midgard, decades! Your mortal was not even alive at that time.” He cut off with a sigh that could only be described as exasperated. “You don’t have to keep hiding from us.”

“Let me explain something to you, brother,” Loki said. “I have no further ambition other than to live with and love that man in there. All thoughts of destruction and war-mongering have ceased. Well almost,” he admitted. “Such curiosities will most likely always be present for a wretch like me.” Tom put his hand on the wall, itching to hold Loki. “If he so much as demanded such a thing of me, to burn or raze buildings, entire cities even,” and Loki paused, both no doubt remembering  New York, “or even death, I would do it. For him, anything. What I once was, what I used to strive for, everything has been reduced to him.”

Tom heard his own breath, sounding so loud against the wall. He swallowed and kept listening.

“I used to be able to say the same about you,” Loki was saying, voice quieter. “You were above everyone else in my eyes. It is a thing I deeply regret. Had I only been different.” He laughed bitterly.

“I never wanted you to be different, Loki. You never needed to be. It all became convoluted in your mind, how others supposedly perceived you.”

“Stop,” Loki hissed.

“We, who have grown through centuries of time. You are my brother. You will continue to be until the end of it all, for me.” Thor paused. “The power this mortal has over you--.”

“Is his to use as he wishes. But he would never ask any of that from me. Never. How fitting that the one person for whom I would do anything would never demand that which would destroy the progress I’ve made. Mother would call it fate.”

“And you? What would you name it?”

It was so soft, Tom almost didn’t hear it. He pressed his ear close. “Love, obviously,” Loki whispered, and Tom’s eyes stung with tears. “Which is a type of fate, in its own way, I suppose. He is unlike any other being.”

They were quiet.

“What happened before New York, Loki?” Thor’s voice was pleading, as if this was the question he needed the answer to the most. “After you fell? The mortal knows but would not tell me. Who took you? Who hurt you, I will kill them. I know they made you do it.”

Tom strained to hear what Loki replied but it was too low, as was what Thor said in return. He caught something about “some of it was me,” and “—was different from when you bound me from my powers, I never could have imagined, Thor—,” and “I haven’t the heart to tell you,” and “the confusion, I couldn’t bear it—,” and finally “—you needn’t have carried this alone.”

Tom was frustrated for only half understanding what they were talking about and not being able to hear the other half.

It’s your own damn fault, he thought, removing yourself from the room.

The teakettle whistled and he jumped, rushing to the stove to remove it from the flame. Conversation ceased in the next room and then he heard Loki say loudly, “Sit down! It’s alright, he’s only making tea.”

Tom stifled a laugh as he poured his cup, vaguely wondering if he should take them some too.

Minutes passed and he lost track of the conversation as he moved about the kitchen. He was sipping the hot tea and checking the emails on his phone when there was a sudden loud crash and he dropped his cup in surprise. It shattered on the counter. Stuffing the phone in his pocket, he ran to the doorway, throat closing in fear.

The coffee table was turned over and Loki and Thor faced each other across a space of two feet and unimaginable hurt. What could either of them have said to cause this, Tom thought in a panic.

Thor was standing, face red in anger, hammer clenched tightly in one hand, but Loki was the one radiating fury.

“Do not speak of that about which you know nothing,” he whispered, voice laden with menace even from where Tom stood.

“Loki,” he whispered, taking a step in his direction.

“Stay back, Thomas,” Loki said.

Tom froze.

“But I do know, Loki. Do you think I learned nothing with Jane?" Thor's voice broke slightly at the end, his eyes softening at the mention of this woman's name. Tom frowned. Who was Jane? "I felt just as you feel for him. It was all for naught. You need to come home,” he said. “He will perish and you will be alone here.”

Loki growled and rushed at Thor, throwing him up against the wall. A horrible shuddering sound echoed in the room and a gust of plaster floated down from the ceiling. Tom feared the house would crack in two. He was so careful with Tom, oh so careful, Tom knew that. But underneath that quiet façade was a storm of power. He stared at Loki, amazed at the strength in him.

“You do not belong in this realm. Spare yourself this, brother. You do not deserve it. Come with me now. Home awaits us.”

“I am home!” Loki’s fingers clenched and a green flame erupted from their tips, light flickering with dangerous intent. Thor eyed him and raised his hammer halfway.

“No,” Tom said, starting to close the distance but a wave of invisible energy burst off Loki’s body and Tom was thrust back. He fell to the floor, but quickly scrambled to his knees, too afraid to tear his eyes away. The green flame in Loki’s hands died down a bit, but remained a soft glow in his palms.

“I am home. He is my home. Wherever he is, understand? Asgard no longer holds that title. It hasn’t for a long time.”

The flames burned brighter and Tom inched closer. “Darling…please.”

Loki looked down at him and the fire went away altogether. Addressing Thor, he whispered, “Get out.”

Crossing to where Tom knelt, Loki took his arms and helped him stand. He put his hand on Tom’s neck, his face a mask of muted rage with a deeper current of sadness behind the tears he wouldn’t let fall. Gripping his elbow, he pulled Tom across the room and toward the stairs. Tom looked back at Thor and saw a resigned despair on his face, his hammer hanging in limp fingers.

“He’s good for you, brother. I can see that. And our mother has always known. But home is good for you, too. We have missed you. I have missed you.”

Loki paused, but then tightened his hold on Tom, pulling him up the stairs. As Tom tripped after him, Thor smiled kindly and a little sadly before disappearing from his view.

 **

That night, Loki wept.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received a couple of very nice requests for Loki and Tom's first time together. I've included that here :-) And well...there is just so much smut in this chapter, I don't even know. And based on how the chapter ends, there will be more smut and soon. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I'll get these two back on track, I promise ;-) *hides*

Closing the door to their bedroom was one of the hardest things Tom had ever done. He felt as if by doing so, he was abetting in an irreparable rift between Loki and Thor, who was still somewhere in their house, he could just feel it. A presence like that didn’t just disappear. It lingered, like the fading light of day. It didn't feel like the right thing to do, not after seeing the heartbreak on Thor's face as Loki dragged Tom up the stairs. But Loki came first. And right now Loki was displaying the characteristics of a caged animal.

Tom stood quietly by while Loki paced.

His face was a mask of forced calm and his eyes were flashing; with fingers curled defensively and a tick in his jaw, Loki was the epitome of agitated. Tom dared not say a word.

It was only sometime later that Loki finally stopped and cocked his head. "He's gone," he whispered. And as if a switch had been flipped, he sank to the bed, exhausted.

Putting his head in his hands, Loki began to cry. It was silent, this weeping. But his shoulders shook and his breaths came fast and Tom would have preferred he raved and screamed than reveal the representation of the actual depth of his anguish.

He was at his side immediately, rubbing his shoulders, pushing back his hair from his forehead.

"It's useless," Loki kept saying. "It's utterly useless."

"What is, darling? Tell me."

"I will lose you. It's inevitable."

"No, Loki. No!” He cupped his cheek, trying to get Loki to look at him. “I'm here with you. I'll always be."

A sob burst out of him and he shook his head. “No matter the protection spells I cast on you and the places you frequent, no matter the traces of myself I leave on your body, the markings both visible and invisible, Thomas. Time will defeat me.” He clasped Tom’s neck in his large hand. “You will be taken from me.”

Tom inched closer and touched his hair, black like the wings of a raven, like the ink of that gorgeous fountain pen he’d bought for him last Christmas, black like the night sky Loki so loved to worship as the first snows fell. “Not by choice. You must know this.”

And the despair on Loki’s face was heartbreaking, tearing at Tom’s heart from the weight of it. How to ease this burden? How to alleviate him of this? Loki’s green eyes flitted over Tom’s face, as if desperate to memorize the curl of his lashes, the dusting of hair on his jaw, the slope of his forehead, the angle of his lips, the tip of his nose.

Tom began to panic.

“Stop that. I’m not going anywhere. What is it you speak of? Time? That I will grow old and wither before your eyes? That I will die? I am 32 years old. Barring illness or fatal accidents, I have decades ahead of me. Decades with _you._ I know that might be—that might be a ridiculously short amount of time in your frame of mind. You who have been alive for centuries…I can’t believe I haven’t asked you this by now, but how old are you, even?”

Loki swallowed. “You don’t want to know.”

Tom laughed gently, leaning close to kiss his cheek. “I was just teasing. I already know you’re an old man.” Loki growled and Tom laughed again. “But it’s not a short time for me, love. My only regret is that I did not meet you sooner. That I did not get to experience my first of everything with you.” He blushed suddenly. “Well actually…oh, never mind."

"What, Thomas. Tell me." And his eyes were so intently fixed on Tom that he realized Loki was begging to be distracted, even for a little while, from the mess in his heart.

"You were my first of something.”

Loki’s face brightened and Tom was ecstatic to see it. “Oh?”

“Yes, well.” He sat higher up on the bed after removing his shoes and folded his legs up under himself. It was his mission at the moment to divert Loki from wherever he intended on going in his mind. “Growing up, I had a rather confusing time figuring myself out. I went to very nice schools that my parents worked very hard to get me into, mainly all-boys institutions. And I was a really gangly kid.” He laughed, somewhat embarrassed, and rolled his eyes. “All elbows and knees. I eventually grew into my legs. I always told myself I would have no chance with any of the girls, all of whom were always with these handsome, well-built men, with muscles and just everything I didn’t have.” He scratched the back of his neck, trying to sort his thoughts. “In what I believe was entirely unrelated to my hesitation with girls, I suppose that I started having certain…feelings…for some of my classmates. Boys I studied with; boys I hung out with on the weekends, when we had a free moment from academics and rugby. I didn’t know what to make of it. Here I was, trying to impress women—because I really like them and thought of them often—but it was a bit of a shock when I found myself staring at the way the light caught on my roommate’s stubble, or how I wanted to feel the veins in his hands, the way they roped around his wrist and disappeared into his forearms.” He looked down, beet red. “I started avoiding my friends, studying alone, skipping showers in the locker rooms after practice for ones in the privacy of my dormitory. I wasn’t comfortable with my feelings until after I’d graduated. By this time I’d been on a few dates with women. Fooled around a bit. I had a steady girlfriend in my early to mid-twenties. We did everything couples did and it was beautiful. It really was. I was just floored by the magnitude of some of the things I felt. It’s funny actually. Emily, my secretary, early on when I’d recently hired her, was under the impression that something might be happening between us.” Tom caught the way Loki’s eyebrow raised slightly and he rushed to change the subject. “But I couldn’t help it when I caught myself staring at the man in front of me at the coffee shop or the way a gentleman’s cologne lingered inside the lifts at work.” He shrugged, twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly. “I just never acted on it. Even in the time before I met you, when I was very much alone. I guess it goes without saying that you were my first time with a man.” He looked down, worrying at his lip.

Loki nodded kindly. "I know."

Tom did a double take. "You _know_?"

"You were trembling like a leaf, Thomas. Your heart practically beat its way from your chest. I had to remind you to breathe a few times."

Despite himself, Tom blushed as he stared resolutely at Loki. "I was _not_ shaking like a leaf."

Loki chuckled, his nearly dry tear-stained face loosening into a slow and personal smile. It did nothing to hide the fatigue in his eyes, the hurt he fought to stave off. "Shall I show you, my dearest love?" Loki said, raising long fingers to Tom's temple. A small tingle of sensation, like gentle sparks, seeped into his head and then his mind's eye was flooded with subsequent images, like a tiny movie.

Faintly, as if from within a tunnel, he heard Loki said, “This may tire you, Thomas.” And he felt his sense of balance tilting as Loki eased him down to the bed, but he was already focused on another time.

He saw himself as he had been over two years ago, still lean and lanky, a thin button down sweater over his shirt and casual tie, standing at the curb of a small restaurant. He remembered how he'd agonized over what to wear, choosing dressy jeans over the more formal trousers he wore for work. His hair appeared blonder, but that might have been because it was a bit longer, a wild bundle of curls that ruffled in the cool breeze. He didn’t wear his hair that long anymore. It tended to be a slightly darker shade when trimmed.

Autumn had fallen over the city nicely, the leaves turning practically overnight so that morning dawned with orange and yellow blanketing everything. He didn't know it then, but Loki had only recently arrived in the city, his instinct for colder weather grounding him in London, which was known for having bitter winters. It wasn't until much later that Loki confided in him that there was something about London that kept him returning to the ancient city. Maybe it was the age of the place or maybe it was Tom's presence somewhere in the maze of crowded streets, Loki didn't know but he was glad he stayed.

He and Loki had already been on six dates by this point, each leaving Tom more anxious than the first. He didn’t know how to handle his emotions or how to anticipate how the other man might be feeling. With every outing, Tom was comforted with the impression that Loki liked him very much, but was reserved in his affection. He would always pull away first, would not initiate anything. Except their first kiss at South Bank on their second date. He’d pulled that tulip from behind Tom’s ear and there was hardly a moment for Tom to regain his breath before Loki was leaning in.

This dinner would be their seventh date and Tom’s patience was waning.

The way the memories played out in his mind, Tom came to realize that they were from Loki's perspective. _He must have been watching me for a while_ , he thought, as his self from two years ago looked up and down the street, very obviously waiting for someone. Through Loki’s eyes, he saw himself pace and glance at his watch a couple of times. He was _fidgeting._ Somewhere in his mind, he had the good grace to feel mortified.

In his hand he carried a very familiar golden box of chocolates. He didn't know if Loki liked chocolate. He didn't know much of _anything_ about Loki, except that he made Tom feel as if he'd never before been _looked_ at; Loki's scrutiny had as much to do with his inquisitive nature as his desire to devour what interested him in every way, both metaphorically and quite literally, as he often tried to do while making love. But all this would be known to Tom later.

There was a shift in the image and suddenly Loki was right before him. The relief on Tom’s face was palpable. His face broke open in a wide smile, eyes crinkling in happiness. With their first kiss behind them, Loki liked to kiss him whenever they greeted or departed. He did so now and Tom remembered the flush of heat that crept up his face at that moment.

Their dinner went very well, as had their other dates. Tom did a lot of the talking, detailing this or that thing, it was hardly worth remembering now. What he did remember, what he held in great relish, was the way Loki looked at him. The man tended to sit very still, seldom changing his posture—as most other people did, crossing and uncrossing legs or leaning on elbows—no, Loki would rest against the chair back, one hand tossed carelessly over the side with the other at his chin, all the while watching Tom with that impenetrable gaze.

And when Tom took a moment to sip at his wine, slightly embarrassed by how much he was talking, he would catch Loki staring at him as he drank, before dropping his eyes and smiling. He was quick to ask Tom questions about his life, his work, his interests. On this particular evening, Tom wanted to know about the café, the one where he’d seen Loki for the first time.

“Had you known I go there a lot?” he asked as casually as he could, but he couldn’t deny the shiver of excitement he got when he imagined Loki remembering a detail like that.

“I had,” was all Loki said.

“Where are you from?” he asked next, hoping to change tactics. Loki had been good at avoiding this line of questioning and he did so now.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. Would you like some dessert, Thomas?” he said, indicating their empty plates. “I hear their caramel cheesecake is particularly delightful. Or we could take these lovely chocolates you brought me and enjoy them somewhere more…private.”

It was the way he said it, his lips curling up at one corner that stilled the breath in Tom’s chest and he knew that he needed to feel those lips on his body, needed to know what he tasted like, what he sounded like when undone.

“No cheesecake, thank you,” he whispered. “I’d like to leave now.”

Loki had chuckled and called for the check.

The memory shifted and Tom felt himself wincing at the speed of it, lying on the bed nearly immobile. Somewhere he felt Loki tighten his arms around him as the memory suffused his mind, nose nudging tenderly along his jawline.

He and Loki entered his house, Tom a nervous flurry of hospitality, offering Loki something to drink, taking their coats and hanging them on a rack next to the door. Loki had an amused smile on his face throughout, watching Tom flit from one spot to another. He finally caught Tom’s wrist and held him still, Tom’s eyes widening fractionally.

“I’m sorry,” Tom started. “I don’t know why I’m so—.”

“May I kiss you?” Loki asked, his eyes drifting to Tom’s mouth.

“Yes,” he whispered and Loki smiled wide, relief so plain on his face. From behind his back, he brought out a small square chocolate held delicately in two fingers. He took a bite and Tom’s eyes widened as he watched a string of caramel start to fall before Loki caught it with his pink tongue. Tom groaned and grabbed his shirt, kissing him, the taste of milk chocolate bursting in his mouth.

They’d ended up in their bedroom—or rather, _his_ bedroom—as it had been before Loki moved in with him.

Loki’s kisses became fiercer the closer they got to the bed, their lips sticky and sweet. Tom had only enough clarity of mind to grip his shoulders as Loki’s tongue caressed the inside of his lips. And then they were fumbling to the mattress, Loki’s weight seemingly impossible on top of him, a weight that Tom learned over the years how to bear without being overwhelmed by it.

He could see now, watching himself lie beneath this magnificent being, that he _was_ indeed visibly shaking, small tremors that coursed up his spine and stole his breath, eyes wide to capture every detail of Loki to remember always. But Loki seemed on a path of memorizing Tom in his own way, with lips hot and seeking on his skin, fingers that tightened painfully on his limbs, hooded green eyes roving over his form.

“Ah!” Tom gasped at one point, when Loki took both wrists in hand and dragged his arms over his head, nearly pulling them from their sockets.

Loki froze, eyes unreadable, and then he vanished from above Tom.

“Wait!” Tom scrambled up, the ache in his shoulders already fading. Loki was by the end of the bed, running a hand through that black hair that Tom had only recently been able to touch and wanted to touch again very badly. He took his wrists. “Wait,” he said again, much softer. Loki was upset, but only at himself it seemed. “You…My god, you are _immensely_ strong,” he said, laughing quietly. Loki wouldn’t look at him. “And you are different. I can’t pinpoint how, but you are.”

“Thomas,” Loki began, shaking his head.

“You’re not human,” Tom said, surprising himself with the certainty in his voice. It was as if he’d always known. But _of course_ he’d known. There was no other way. Loki stared at him. “You healed my burn that one time and your body weight is so much more than it should be, like there is a great power in your bones that is heavy on you. And your strength…” he smiled, amazed. He grew serious. “I want to do this. I do. Let’s start slowly, okay?” He tugged on Loki’s hand until the man was lying on him again and they kissed, their mouths slowly melding together, tongues exploring. Tom bit him teasingly and Loki growled before deepening their embrace.

His clothes came off one article at a time. Loki unbuttoned every button with extreme care, Tom vibrating with the urgent need for _more_. Once bare-chested, Loki worshipped at his burning skin, touching the soft hairs on his chest with reverence.

“You. Please. I want to see you,” Tom whispered, voice breaking, nearly breathless. And once he and Loki were completely nude, Tom was lost for words, for their bodies were nearly identical, save for a few differences. Where Tom’s chest was lightly dusted with a small gathering of dark blond hairs, Loki was completely hairless, his chest a map of smooth alabaster skin, strong and leanly muscular. And then Loki was on him again, devouring his mouth, taking his breath into his own lungs. He settled against Tom’s hips and their half-hard cocks rubbed together.

Tom started to shake again, he couldn’t help it. Loki was beyond what he imagined this would be like. It was incomparable to something he had nothing to compare to and he drowned in these sensations, lips at his neck, fingers at his waist, knees pushing his legs apart.

“You are quivering,” Loki said, taking in Tom’s trembling form.

Tom could only nod, fingers in his hair, grasping the ends of it, such a gorgeous shade of black. He wanted to so desperately explain to Loki that it wasn’t because he was afraid or that he didn’t desire this on a cellular level. He was nervous, yes, but he didn’t want Loki to know why—that he’d never done this before and would be humiliated if he did something wrong— _oh god_ what if he did something wrong?

“Calm,” Loki said, pressing a large palm against Tom’s chest where his heart pounded heavily just within his ribcage. “Breathe, Thomas. For me.”

He took in a shaky breath, watching Loki crawl down his body. But he wasn’t entirely alone in the onslaught his emotions were wreaking on his body. Loki’s own hands shook slightly as he caressed the pale white insides of Tom’s thighs, his thumbs brushing lightly over the sensitive skin of his perineum. Tom gasped, his fingers twitching on the bed sheet. Wide green eyes peered up at him between his legs before Loki was pressing his lips to the heavy sacs beneath Tom’s cock. Apart from rubbing it with his own cock, Loki had not touched Tom there, even if his breath ghosting over the rigid shaft and weeping tip had Tom arching in a desperate attempt for contact.

He mouthed at his balls, moaning quietly when Tom whispered his name. Tom was moving his hips, fingers itching to bury themselves in that dark mane and push down, harder, please.

A hot tongue licked along his perineum and Tom gasped again, voice caught in his throat. Circling the base of his cock with long fingers, Loki held him still as he took Tom into his mouth, whole and deep, one swift movement that had Tom hitting the back of his throat.

"F-fuck," he groaned, hands scrabbling to hold onto something, anything. Loki's head bobbed up and down, wide tongue massaging the large vein on the underside of his cock. Gaze locked on Tom, he moaned and the vibrations made Tom's eyes roll back, his elbows struggling to support his weight, wanting to see Loki and all he did. After teasing the slit at the tip, Tom seeing spots in his vision, Loki released his cock, a smile in his eyes. Wide hands grasped him under his thighs and pushed upward, angling Tom’s hips higher in the air. Tom flopped back to the bed but craned his neck, desperate to _see_ , but only the crown of Loki’s head was visible before his mouth settled hotly over Tom’s hole.

He felt his face flaming as blood rushed through his body. He had no breath to protest, didn’t even know if he wanted to, but never did he imagine that this man would know him so intimately, so thoroughly. It was a desire made clear to him only in this moment, Loki awakening in him every base need.

They groaned together as Loki laved at his entrance, tongue trying to push in, to ready him for more, but oh he was so tight. The upward movement of his tongue had Loki skimming to his balls and back down, where he would seal his lips over that pink pucker and Tom would dissolve even further. He placed trembling fingers on Loki’s head, not quite believing he was real.

“Loki.” It was breathed, a plea, a prayer. Backing up, Loki replaced his tongue with a long finger, his hand caressing his balls and perineum before one fingertip tested the stretch of his hole. Tom winced and seized up, staring resolutely up at the ceiling, hands fisted in the sheets. Never missing a thing, Loki stared at him, face frozen. And then he pushed his finger in, mouth parting when Tom jerked in surprise. He said nothing, but took his time before trying for a second finger.

“Breathe,” he whispered, watching Tom turn a darker shade of red. “Thomas, please bre—.”

“Okay,” Tom whispered. “I’m sorry.”

 Loki worked him open, adding two more fingers before long. In to the knuckle, Loki smiled as Tom groaned and then tried to rut himself against his hand.

“Loki, that is—ah!”

He seized up again and Loki smiled wider, reaching in a bit further and gliding over that sensitive gland inside Tom, his other hand holding Tom’s leg wide.

“God! Oh—please!” Tom’s voice broke, the veins in his neck protruding. He lifted his head and stared down at where Loki’s fingers were disappearing into him. “What—was that…Loki, ah! Yes, yes, please yes.”

Loki, falling forward to breathe in the scent of Tom’s neck, kept his touch gentle, pumping almost languidly into Tom. “Feel it, Thomas. I’m here with you. Feel it, feel me.”

Tom whimpered and shifted his hips, seeking, yearning something he’d never known would feel so amazing.

“You are divine,” Loki whispered hotly, that refined voice shredded by emotion. Chills raced down Tom’s spine. Minutes passed as he was worked open, Loki’s teeth nibbling at his earlobe and again at his neck, where he sucked a bruise to the surface. Tom was babbling by the time Loki deemed him ready, head rolling listlessly, eyes hooded. Loki scraped his thumbnail gently down his perineum before pulling his hand away and Tom cried out, tears of frustration springing to blur his vision.

“Please, please,” he murmured, scratching his own nails along Loki’s shoulder blades. Loki hissed and drew back, pumping his cock in hand a few times before lining himself up with Tom’s hole. Tom blinked owlishly up at Loki, feeling more slick at his entrance than what should have felt normal from just Loki's oral ministrations, but he held his legs open, trusting him implicitly. Perhaps this was Loki's doing, yet another mysterious thing he filed away to ask about later.

“Precious one,” Loki said. He seemed hesitant, a tiny twinge of uncertainty in the furrow of his brows. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You won't. Please. I want—Loki, please,” he stammered and then choked into silence when Loki pushed passed the circle of muscle an inch before retreating and pushing in again. He held Tom by the hip, wide eyed, refusing to blink lest he missed a moment of Tom’s reaction. Tilting his head into the mattress, Tom closed his eyes in rapture, small noises falling from his mouth the deeper Loki sank into him. After allowing Tom to adjust to him in stages, he was finally seated to the root. Loki leaned over him and stared.

“Thomas, breathe.” He shifted his hips back and then popped them forward, Tom grunting in response. “Breathe.”

Tom inhaled at the second thrust, not realizing the air had been caught in his chest. It was soft at first, this pace, Loki’s eyes roving Tom’s face for signs of pain or discomfort. But Tom was a display of pure wanton lust and Loki felt his heart nearly burst at the thought of this man being entirely his.

“Oh darling,” Tom moaned once Loki was sure he wouldn't pass out and started a quick rhythm.

“Yes,” Loki whispered, sliding his hands under Tom’s arms and curving over the knobs of his shoulders, anchoring him close. Loki crowded him into the mattress, that frightening and wonderful weight pinning Tom down. It was a whole body embrace, their mouths hovering together, Loki’s thighs holding Tom’s legs open, flat bellies flush together. Cock trapped between their bodies, Tom rocked with Loki, the bed swaying along with them. Loki's hips had a steady, hard movement, his balls slapping heavily against Tom.

And as Tom's hand drifted up to Loki's face, fingers tracing his cheekbone, the dark eyebrows, the clenched jaw, Loki's eyes began to mist over, looking down at Tom flushed and clinging to him, those gaping blue eyes so trusting and alive and irrevocably his. Stooping low, Loki pressed his lips to Tom's, a tender moan spreading through his chest, so that Tom felt more than heard it.

Loki framed his face with his hands, thumbs grazing his cheeks, his eyes boring into Tom, willing him with his immense heart unfurling at Tom’s feet, to be _his_. And Tom, with ankles locked tightly behind the small of Loki’s back, gave himself willingly.

They moved together, Tom planting his feet on the bed and lifting against Loki, who held him close with an arm cushioning his head, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. Inside him, Loki grazed that sensitive gland and Tom arched, not entirely believing the strength of that electric shock. Wrapping his free arm behind Tom’s knee, Loki angled his leg higher and pounded into him, the angle directly hitting his prostate.

Tom’s entire body seized up and, after a moment, he came on a strangled cry, cock throbbing hotly between them. Loki, feeling Tom clench tightly around him, stuttered his hips to a stop, absorbing the delight at seeing Tom orgasm so fully, the loveliest sight to him, those small gasps, the scratching nails, arching back, his name whispered like a litany. The ring of muscle at his entrance pulsed rhythmically, milking him. Groaning, Loki kissed him and started up a frenzied pace, eager to mark him, claim him, devour him. Tom was floating on a cloud, eyes half closed, bobbing lazily on the mattress from the force of Loki’s thrusts. He held him tightly when he came, fingers in his hair and on his slippery back, glistening with sweat, awestruck at the feel of warm come being pumped into him, already convinced that he needed to feel that again and again and again. 

“Thomas, my Thomas,” Loki was whispering, lips at his neck, the beginning of his continued worship of that part of Tom’s body.

Collapsing together, Tom winced when Loki pulled out, something hot leaking from him.

They dozed. And it wasn’t until much later, when they had slept curled so close together, like two flower buds folding into themselves at the sun’s departure, that Tom realized what it was that kept nagging his brain. There was a fearful quality to the way Loki held him, Tom could feel it; fingers not as tight on his skin, hands held loosely on his limbs. Tom knew Loki was afraid of causing him injury, anxious of doing something that would make Tom run from him and never return. Tom didn’t want Loki to be afraid like this; Tom could take much more than Loki probably thought.

As Loki woke Tom from sleep with butterfly kisses on his cheeks and neck, slipping into his body for the second of four times that night, Tom made his decision. Undulating against him, feeling the burn and drag of Loki’s cock in his still sensitive hole, he reached for Loki's hand clasped around the sharp point of Tom's hipbone. Circling his wrist, he tugged, inching Loki’s cool hand up his belly, over his chest and to his throat.

Loki's eyes widened. "Thomas," he said hoarsely. “What—?”

"I trust you. I do. Please…” Tom breathed, angling his head up to accommodate the size of Loki’s wide palm against his neck.

Loki's fingers tightened exponentially, a broken groan slipping from between his clenched teeth, and at Tom’s fervent nod, began pounding hard into him. Tom was halfway hard, extremely impressed with what he was beginning to recognize as Loki’s insatiable sexual appetite. He was held close and still, that hand closed around his neck immobilizing his upper body. His airflow cut off every time Loki squeezed those fingers. As he snapped his hips faster and faster, Tom opened his mouth in a noiseless moan, only able to take in air when Loki pulled back a fraction of an inch before pushing back in, his hand loosening for just that tiny moment.

“You’re mine,” Loki breathed, forehead pressed tightly to Tom’s temple.

“Yes, yours,” Tom wheezed, the slight asphyxiation making his vision blur and his blood sing.

He fucked him harder than before, but not as hard as he would at other times in their long history of making love, when Tom was more accustomed to his strength. Even now, Tom’s body sank deep into the blankets, his limbs loose.

His heart unfurled like open petals.

“Yours,” he repeated and Loki squeezed his eyes shut, thanking him.

They came hard, a long tangle of limbs and heavy breaths. Loki kept his hand at his neck, but applied no further pressure, Tom dragging in air, his vision clearing and the heat escaping his skin. There was a type of relief on both their faces in the aftermath, and only through soft touches and exhausted cuddling did they convey for the first time, their love for each other.

The vision released with a quiet tug and Tom awoke from the memory with a sharp gasp, his body stiff. But Loki was there at his side, arms holding him close, forehead at his temple, just like in the memory.

“Do you remember now, my darling?” Loki asked, a smile in his voice, red eyes the only evidence of having been crying.

Tom sat catching his breath, hand shaking on his chest where he felt the strong pounding of his heart. His own smile was reverent. “Yes. Thank you for that, Loki. I could never forget anything of it.”

They fell into an embrace, lips crashing together. Loki was frantic and ripped Tom’s tie in two rather than wait to loosen the knot.

Tom watched as he threw it to the floor. “That was my favorite—.”

But Loki waved his hand dismissively and the material repaired itself before his eyes. He did the same to Tom, removing everything but his briefs in one easy snap, before laying his mouth hotly on his skin. The cool air hit Tom's body in a sudden wave.

He shivered. “Well, if you insist on—.”

Loki pushed him down to lie flat on the bed, his own clothes having disappeared somewhere in the process. He crawled up his body, straddling his chest, and angled his cock to his mouth.

Taking a fistful of Tom’s hair, he whispered, “Open.”

Tom obeyed, hugging Loki’s thighs as he took more and more of his cock into his mouth. He couldn’t take it all. He had never been able to, but he tried. Oh how he tried.

Loki was breathing heavily, hips thrusting forward, more insistent than usual. Tom’s hands pressed against them to avoid choking. He relaxed his jaw and let Loki control the motion of his head, his fingers still tight in his hair.

It was moments like these, when the playful part of Loki was dormant, when there was just enough of a hint of danger in his tone, that a _want_ settled so nicely along Tom's spine, like a coil, a spiral, a spring of pure thirst. His devotion was on an entirely different plane of existence, for as a darker gleam of power shone from Loki's eyes, there was also a highly sustained level of control that Loki exuded on Tom's behalf. Even though, as the recipient of that power, Tom felt more aches and displayed more bruises following a bout of sex when Loki was like this, he felt resplendent with an adoration as only Loki could give. This was how he imagined Loki had been like before nightmares plagued him and familial heartaches tore him from within. A prince, a god, his own, his love, no matter the form. Loki was his.

He dragged in air when Loki pulled back for two seconds, already steeling himself for when he pushed back in. His cock seemed engorged beyond recall and Tom angled his tongue out to lick the underside, I love you, I love you, more.

"Take it, Thomas. Oh, yes, just like that. Swallow again, darling. You amaze me. Swallow again, pet..."

Tom did, tears leaking from his eyes, nails digging into the meat of Loki's buttocks. And he was delirious with the praise. He whined quietly and Loki moved to cradle his head in his laced fingers, holding Tom still while he pumped into his mouth. Tom's stomach muscles were cramping, his gag reflex no longer obeying him. As much as he tried to avoid it, he jerked violently and Loki pulled back. Tom coughed, inhaling loudly.

There was love in the soft look Loki gave him, wiping the spit from the corners of Tom's mouth.

"Marvelous man. My stunning mortal."

Tom whimpered, voice shot. His throat burned and he blinked his bleary eyes. Loki kissed his trembling lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, tasting the tears on Tom's temples before laying down on him, fully and heavily. He aligned their centers and thrust down.

Tom gasped and opened his legs, lifting up. Their cocks were hard, the thin material of their briefs creating a smooth friction, a heat that made Tom’s head swim.

Anchoring his wrists over his head, Loki started rutting against him, a quick movement that only aggravated Tom's frantic need to climax. Loki seemed determined to see him through. He bore down, hips fast and controlled.

"Loki," Tom whispered, voice hoarse. "I can't take—ah…much more. I'm going to--"

"Yes, finish. Thomas, finish. I demand it."

It took only four more thrusts before Tom came with a broken cry, hands grasping at air, Loki's fingers tightening on his wrists.

"Very good, my dove," Loki murmured, nudging his nose along Tom's jaw. Tom sighed, eyes closing.

Loki moved away and flipped Tom, pulling down his briefs only far enough to expose his buttocks. Keeping Tom's legs together, Loki eased his cock between Tom's cheeks and into his hole. He thrust in and Tom grunted loudly, grimacing for only a moment before the pain died away, leaving only the pleasant stretch and fullness of his lover. The stretch and drag were rougher in this position and Tom gripped the sheets to hold on.

"Oh, Thomas," Loki breathed, seated deep inside. Tom's heat rendered him speechless and he shut his eyes tight, fighting for control. Clasping the back of Tom's neck in one hand and the small of his back with the other, Loki started a furious beat, his thrusts rocking Tom into the mattress.

It took only minutes before Loki was stuttering to a stop, his come spurting into Tom. He thrust twice more, wringing it out, before he collapsed, trembling, on top of him.

Tom, shaking and hardly conscious, managed to wiggle his hips a bit, all the more to feel Loki softening inside him.

"Darling," he whispered, trying to see Loki out of the corner of his eye. A long white finger came into his view and touched the tip of his nose softly.

"I love you," Loki whispered back. "And I'll keep you forever."

"Yes. Please," he murmured with a smile. Loki kissed his shoulder and pulled out, cleaning Tom and removing his stained briefs.

As they lay in the solid dark, Tom snuggled up to Loki and huffed out an exhausted breath.

"May I say something about what happened earlier...in the living room?"

"Of course, Thomas. You can say whatever you’d like."

"Well. I think this whole thing may not be just about you being worried I will grow old and die. I think it has more to do with you missing Frigga...and Thor."

He waited with bated breath, unsure how Loki would reply.

"You may be right, Thomas." Tom released his breath, relieved. "But only partly."

"How do you mean?" At least Loki was talking about it.

"I am absolutely worried about losing you. To age. To disease. To sudden death." Tom gulped and hugged himself closer to Loki. "But I have taken measures to ensure that nearly none of that will affect you. Save time. Time I cannot win against. Age is the winning factor, in my opinion. So it's not that I miss my family _more_ than my fear of losing you. I see them as equally important."

They were quiet and then Tom spoke up. "Who is Jane?"

"Jane Foster.” Loki sighed, a bit sadly. “She was Thor's mortal."

Tom started, even if he sort of guessed that. "His mortal? But how?"

Loki chuckled and caressed his back. "Just as you and I are. That's how."

Tom rolled his eyes in the dark. "I know _how_ , Loki. I just...I got the distinct impression that he wouldn't have chosen that for himself." Thor seemed so much more detached, colder even, than Loki. Of course, he didn't know him at all. For all Tom knew, Thor could be a lovable teddy bear who enjoyed laughing and drinking with friends. But from what he saw, Thor appeared burdened somehow by responsibility and a type of maturity that Tom had trouble discerning. Had Thor loved a human so strongly, only to be emotionally distraught at her demise?

"When was this?"

"Before your time, Thomas. It was around the time I...visited...New York."

Tom felt his face heating. "Oh." He kissed Loki's neck, knowing this was dangerous ground.

Minutes passed and Tom thought Loki might have fallen asleep. But then his voice came through the dark, hushed and small. "I do miss them. Very much."

“Oh, my darling.” Tom touched his face, feeling the tear as it fell, a hot representation of the size of Loki's emotion. “Why don’t you tell them? I just know they would love to hear it.”

Loki pulled away, wiping at his face furiously. “It’s not that simple, Thomas. I did and said terrible things. Who would ever forgive me?”

“They would. How Frigga spoke of you…she loves you very much. And Thor’s presence here in our home speaks volumes of how much he cares. Won’t you consider it?”

Loki said nothing and they lay in silence.

“Does Thor hate me?” he asked finally, unable to rid himself of the notion. It was so unlike him, to be this dependent on another person’s opinion of him. But Thor seemed to matter, very much, in all that had been happening. If he didn’t approve of Tom, what would that mean?

Loki took him by the shoulders and cupped his cheek. “What makes you say such a thing?”

Feeling stupid, Tom shrugged. “It’s what he told you, earlier. He doesn’t want you to be with me.”

“It’s not that, Thomas. He, of all people, knows the love a mortal can give. It’s limitless, a pure power. He is only trying to convince me that your love will hurt me in the end. That your death…” He sighed. “He’s only trying to protect me. He was always so good at that.”

“I really wish you would stop talking like I’m going to drop dead any minute.”

Loki laughed and Tom felt his heart swell at the sound of it. “I apologize. It really is very rude of me. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Tom kissed him. “Clearly. Hush now, I’d like to sleep after you had your way with me.”

“Mmm, I do love having my way with you.”

“Clearly,” he whispered again and touched his cheek softly, in the dark.

 **

The weekend passed in near silence. Tom took care of things around the house, washing and cleaning. He changed the sheets on their bed, organized his study, considered going out into the yard to see what needed to be done there, but then thought better of it when his breath frosted up against the glass door before he’d even set foot outside, deciding it would be better if Loki handled that.

But Loki was often too distracted to be bothered. Tom would catch sight of him in some corner of the house, staring into space, lips tight in concentration, so far into his mind that Tom sometimes couldn’t help but stop what he was doing, worry gnawing at his heart.

Monday morning was a bit of a mess. Tom woke up late when Loki batted at his alarm and then hauled Tom closer to him, their bodies so warm and snug in their cocoon of blankets. Needless to say, he’d fallen asleep again and woke up in a panic with only twenty minutes to get ready.

Skipping breakfast and coffee, he’d driven to work and offered sincere apologies to the client he’d kept waiting.

Finally getting a free moment to himself after three straight appointments, Emily came into his office with a steaming cup of tea.

“You are so busy this morning!” she exclaimed, setting the cup down on his desk with a small plate of biscuits.

“Quite,” he quipped, distracted by the paper in front of him.

She touched him on the shoulder, right at the spot a bruise left by Loki was still healing. “Can I get you anything else before I head to lunch?”

He smiled up at her. “No thank you, Emily. My next appointment will be along shortly and I want to get some of this paperwork done before then. Go on ahead.”

She squeezed his shoulder gently and he felt his bruise twinge. She walked out, her high heels quite becoming on her, and closed the door to his office.

He sighed and rubbed his face.

“Hello, Thomas.”

Tom jumped, knocking over the tea cup. It shattered on the floor. “Jesus!” he whispered, already trying to blot at the spilled liquid with tissues from the box he kept available for clients.

Loki stood in the corner of his office, having appeared out of nowhere. He held a travel container of coffee in his hands.

“Wrong god,” he said and Tom tossed him a scowl.

“What are you doing, scaring the living daylights out of me for?”

“I came bearing a gift,” he said, gesturing to the container in his hand. “You left in such a hurry and I worried you wouldn’t eat or having anything warm to drink until nearly the end of the day. But…what a lovely assistant you have to take care of those…needs…for you.”

Tom threw away the soggy tissues. “Oh come off it. Emily is just extremely nice by nature.”

Loki smiled tightly. “Emily.”

Tom turned to him. “No. Loki, no. I know that look and just no.”

“She fancies you.”

“She did at one point, but that is completely over. I’ve rebuked every advance she’s made—.”

Loki materialized right in front of him and Tom fell back into his seat, where Loki leaned over him, hands on the arms of the chair.

“Perhaps you think it’s over, my lover, but she most certainly does not. The look in her eyes when she gazes at you is quite…doting.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” Tom said, eyes straying to Loki’s lips before he could stop himself.

Loki smiled. “Am I? Does she know you are answered for?”

“I—I don’t talk about my personal life here, Loki. It can be uncouth when people don’t know each other that well.”

“She’s trying to get to know you.”

“That’s enough.”

“Oh, I do love that tone.” His hand snaked down Tom’s chest to settle heavily on his crotch, rubbing insistently.

“Stop.”

Loki kissed his neck and bit his earlobe, his fingers cupping Tom through the material of his trousers and damn his cock to hell for responding.

“Don’t. Loki, I’m at work—.”

“Look how you so crave me. Or is it someone else you crave, someone else you want?”

“Goddammit, Loki. You’re being childish. My next appointment will be here any—.”

Loki started fisting his hardening cock, gasping and moaning quietly against his throat. Tom glanced at the closed door of his office. Emily, whose desk was right outside his door, was gone but who knows who might be walking by to hear Loki and his damned sex noises.

He grasped Loki’s forearm, trying to push him away, but Loki was too strong and kept his pace until Tom was arching into his touch.

And then Tom was falling against open air. He looked around, spotting Loki in the same corner where he’d appeared. “What—,” he gasped.

“I really should go,” Loki stage whispered, pointing to the door. “Someone is here to see you.”

There was a knock at his door and Tom cast wide eyes in that direction.

 _I love you,_ Loki mouthed before disappearing entirely.

The broken cup and spilled tea were gone. Everything was fine except for his massive fucking hard on. He grabbed a file and held it in front of his crotch, calling out for his visitors to please come in. As he shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, he sat as quickly as he could, cursing Loki in his mind.

It seemed that Loki had bypassed the brooding period he’d been in and was up to his mischievous ways again. _Well_ , he thought to himself, as he started outlining some plans to his client, _I can be naughty too._

_**_

Tom stood outside the shop for nearly ten minutes, trying to gain the courage to walk inside. From the street, the shop looked rather unassuming, apart from its name— _Scintillating Delights_ —and the dark green ivy that obscured most of the building’s face, trimmed to appear classy and inviting.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself, his temper absolutely dark after that awful trick Loki played on him earlier. It’d taken him the entire hour he met with his client to get his erection to go down, talk of numbers and statistics enough to get anyone out of that kind of mood, but he was beyond furious for having been put in the situation. He crossed the street and hurried into the shop, stopping just inside, eyes wide.

The general ambiance was one of quiet, in the sense that _no one was talking_. Even though there was music playing in the background, it was loud enough to discourage small talk and encourage fraying nerves, possibly. The handful of people in the store were avoiding looking anyone else in the eye, something Tom was going to have trouble with, as he generally liked looking people in the eye.

It was dark in there, with a purple light that ran along the lining of the ceiling, casting just enough illumination not to bump into things or trip and fall.

The layout was simple: there were accessories all along the walls with aisles and shelves in the middle of the store that held even more explicit merchandise. There were fitting rooms in the far corner and the cash registers were adjacent to the entrance. A woman with a blond wig eyed him with amusement from behind the counter and he smiled shyly as he quickly stepped further into the store.

It really was quite amazing the kind of items being sold. Tom felt his face become hotter and hotter the further in he went, and was suddenly thankful for the purple lighting, no doubt meant to cover such embarrassment. Vibrators, masks, costumes, candy-lined underwear, scented and flavored lubricant.

He stopped there, glancing around before peering closer. Coconut, pineapple, cherry, strawberry, chocolate Frappuccino. He hesitated, overwhelmed. He was sure he and Loki would like to try _all_ of them, but he grabbed the one with a caramel flavor before moving on. Along the far wall, he saw more of the severe items. Candles for melting wax, whips and clamps, all manner of different sized dildos, varying in color and texture.

Restraints.

He paused, fingering a heavy set of handcuffs. But Loki was too strong for most of these. He would break free and that wouldn’t do. Spotting an item near the middle, he smiled. Even though Loki was strong enough to free himself, that didn’t mean that Tom couldn’t try to control him in some way. He picked up the item, loving the heavy feel of it, the cold _click_ it made when closed, the long cord of soft leather that fell from a circled hook. Spotting one more item, he quickly grabbed two made of green silicone and dashed to the front register.

“Find what you needed, sugar?”

Tom burned red. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Y-yes, thank you.”

He paid with cash and left in a hurry, imagining the woman laughing at him behind his back. The drive home was stressful. He kept glancing at the bag in the passenger seat, feeling like every person he passed saw the bright purple color and judged him.

It was with relief that he pulled into their driveway. The house was dark, except for a couple of lights on upstairs. Tom’s dark mood returned, remembering the gleeful look on Loki’s face as he left him alone with a hard on and clients walking in.

He opened the front door and removed his coat and gloves, winding his scarf around a peg on the wall. He opened a few of the items, placing them in his pockets for easy access. He studied the bigger item and tried opening and closing it a few times to acquaint himself with it. Once he was sure, he held it behind his back and climbed the stairs.

Approaching their room, he heard Loki humming absentmindedly. He stepped in.

"What took you?" Loki was reading a magazine about celebrities, flipping the pages casually. Tom frowned. Where had he even gotten such a thing?

"I made a stop before coming home."

Loki tossed the magazine to the floor and stretched out on the bed, a big lazy smile on his face. "Mmm, did you buy me anything?"

Tom smiled a bit tightly, in no mood for small talk. He walked into the room with one hand in his pocket and stood before Loki. "In fact. What I bought is especially for you.”

Loki sat up eagerly and waited with an expectant look on his face. “Let me see!”

All the sorrow he’d displayed over the weekend was well concealed. Tom knew it was still there. But Loki didn’t like to talk about that if he could avoid it. He was the master of distraction.

Loki looked up at him, excitement softening the edges of his eyes. “Well?”

“Close your eyes,” he said softly and Loki did so willingly.

From within his pocket, he brought out the caramel flavored lubricant, snapping the lid and holding it under Loki’s nose. “Smell.”

Loki did and licked his lips. “Caramel. A treat. For me?”

“Yes. Now keep your eyes closed.”

 He left the other two items in his pocket and brought out the hand behind his back. He leaned down and kissed Loki’s cheek. He startled a bit, not expecting that, but Tom reached behind his neck and closed the heavy collar he’d bought with a decisive _click,_ keeping the end of the leather leash in his hand.

Loki’s eyes sprang open. He glanced down, hands rising to tug at the metal. "What is the meaning of this, Thomas?"

"You don't recognize it?"

"Of course I recognize it. But why is it on me?"

"Oh, because you’ve just been the naughtiest boy!” He pinched his cheek playfully and received a glower in return. He stood to his full height. “I am very upset with you, Loki. Coming into my office, the place I need to be utterly responsible and professional. You get me hard. You get me hot. And then you leave? No. That wasn't very nice at all."

A wicked glint returned to Loki's eyes at the mention of his mischief. "Oh, yes. I do remember something vaguely resembling that in my afternoon."

"Yes, that. So I thought, this would be my very special gift to you. And you will wear it and not come...until I say so."

Something darkened in Loki's eyes and his smile was positively sinful. He watched as Tom brought out a green silicone cock ring from his pocket. "Thomas," he said, a small warning in his voice.

"Oh, this is for you too, my heart.”

Loki's eyes narrowed. "This isn't at all how I planned our evening."

Tom winked. “Oh, you're mine tonight."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your patience. Happy New Year, everyone! <3

Tom was unsure how to read Loki, which wasn’t entirely all that novel to him. There was many a time when Loki was in one of his moods and Tom didn’t know whether to jump or cuddle closer. But as Loki stared up at him from where he sat on the bed, he became highly aware of the extent of his anger and how far he was willing to take this.

"Now," he began, straightening and walking to the end of the bed. "As much as I appreciate your sweet surprises, how I do so love seeing you at my work, down in the courtyard, your tall silhouette enough to make my very mouth water; or up in my office, even as rare as those occasions may be, I am terribly disappointed in you for what you did. You do realize you put in jeopardy my position as a respectable attorney, that my client could have seen my severe _embarrassment_ had I not been quick to hide it, smoothing over introductions I usually like to take my time over, to get to know them and their cases.” His voice lowered as he trailed a finger along Loki’s collarbone. “I was mortified, my darling."

Loki sat, eyes downcast, not demurely or submissively in the least, but with something like checked outrage and a bit of amusement, his lips pressed together in a hard line. The collar was quite becoming on him, Tom thought. It lay heavily on his neck, just tight enough for two of Tom's fingers to slip underneath and yank him forward if he so desired. But really, the leash would work perfectly well for that. His wide shoulders spread out like wings, lovely and straight.

"I would like for you to remove all your clothing now. And don't make me ask you twice." He turned his back and made himself busy with removing his cuff links and loosening his tie. Hearing movement behind him, he smiled.

When he turned around, Loki was standing tall and looking at him, still fully clothed.

"No."

Tom cocked his head. "What was that?"

Loki took another step toward him. "No."

Tom sighed. "I had hoped you wouldn't be difficult. But it is in your nature, I suppose."

The tiny flash of defiance in Loki's eyes clued him into his game, but still Tom was cautious, and angry.

He crossed the distance in two long steps and, lifting his hand to gain momentum, smacked him across the face.

Loki's head whipped to the side as a red mark bloomed beautifully over his cheek. He groaned very quietly, clenching his jaw.

Tom was shaking, his action surprising himself just as much as it did Loki. But it was almost as if they both expected it, Loki's insolence aggravating an already tense mood caused by his mischief at Tom's office. He was testing Tom, checking his resolve. It would seem Loki was using his own hurt feelings over his confrontation with Thor to goad Tom, because he needed this distraction, desired it as much as Tom felt retribution was necessary. He was asking Tom to do this, in a way.

"Unless you strip, I will cut those clothes off you and you will be sorry for it."

The tiniest smirk. After a moment's hesitation, Loki took the end of the shirt he wore and effortlessly tore it in two. The ripping of cloth sounded loud in the room. Tom avoiding gulping, but this was a display of power Loki was granting him, a show of just who was strongest, of who was allowing whom to be in control. The two pieces of material fell to the floor at his feet.

"Very well," Tom whispered, gesturing to Loki's lower body. "Now those."

"Oh, but I think I will need help with these, Thomas. The zipper seems to be caught."

“Do it.” He stood back and watched Loki remove his jeans, eyeing Tom the entire time, that small smile on his face enough to drive anyone mad.

Once nude and sporting a massive erection, Loki waited quietly. Tom reached into his pocket.

“Put this on.”

He tossed him the cock ring and Loki caught it in one hand.

“Seeking to elongate this, Thomas?”

Tom didn’t answer. He took off his shirt but kept his trousers on, slowly unwinding his black leather belt from the loops. Loki pushed the cock ring on, but Tom went to him and tightened it, inhaling when a small gasp escaped Loki’s lips. Pleased, Tom took the leash attached to his collar and led him to the bed.

“Face down, love.”

That smirk again. But he did as he was told, that long pale body extending over the blanket.

Tom bent low and tapped Loki’s buttocks with his finger. “Up, up, up.”

Loki lifted his hips and Tom pulled at his cock until it was facing his feet rather than be pressed against his belly.

Loki’s glare was murderous.

“Hands up, legs spread. Do I need to restrain you or will you listen?”

“Get on with it!”

Good thing, Tom thought, as he had nothing to restrain him with, nothing that would hold him.

He fingered the belt in his hands, struggling with the waves of lust that rolled through him at the sight of Loki in this position. His innate sense of disbelief was monumental. He never would have thought that after that terrible scene of Loki and Thor at each other’s throats in their living room, that Tom would have him spread-eagle on the bed, about to be punished for a cruel joke on his part.

“Steady yourself, then,” he whispered, raising the belt in the air.

Loki scoffed. “I hardly think what I did to you earlier warrants this kind of—ah!”

Tom brought the belt down hard, the smack of leather on skin silencing Loki. His buttocks clenched and his fingers twitched on the bed, but he stayed still. From where he stood, Tom could see the red handprint on Loki’s cheek from where he had slapped him, as well as the new red slash mark from the belt.

Loki tossed him a heated glare and smiled wide, white teeth flashing devilishly. Tom felt a warm ring around his own cock and knew that Loki had magicked a cock ring onto him.

Loki shrugged and stretched seductively.

And it was enough to spur him on, his blood pooling low in his abdomen, his dick straining against the zipper of his trousers. Tom hit him again and again, until Loki began to writhe on the bed, his arms straining above him, hands clutching the blanket.

“You filthy prankster,” Tom gasped, sweat sprouting on his forehead. “What made you think coming to my office was a good idea, hmm?” _Smack_. “To leave me in such a state—“ _Smack_. “—with no relief.” _Smack_. _Smack._ “With you gone. All I could think of—“ _Smack._ “—was how hard I wanted to fuck you. How as soon as I could get my hands on you, I would fuck you into this mattress. But no. I had another thought. Another thought—“ _Smack_. “—more fitting to your disposition.”

Loki was feverishly rubbing his face into the bed, murmurs of _Thomas_ and cries filling the room. His bottom was a vivid red with thick white lines protruding from where the belt hit the hardest.

Tom dropped the belt and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the leash and tugging. “Come here.”

Loki rose to his knees, his cock leaking a thick string of pre-come. While his arms shook and tears gathered precariously in his eyes, that smile was still there, teasing. Tom gritted his teeth and patted his lap. “Are you ready to apologize?”

Loki chuckled as he crawled over, draping himself over Tom’s knees. He brushed his lips over his ear and whispered, “You _loved_ it.”

Taking him by the collar, Tom pushed him down, holding him in place. “Shut your mouth.”

He smoothed a hand over his red buttocks and Loki whined, trying to move away from Tom’s touch.

“You will take this because I give it to you. And because you deserve it.”

An ordinary man would not have been able to take much more abuse, but Loki was hardly an ordinary man and Tom swallowed down his impulse to stop. Loki could take so much more.

As quickly as before, Tom brought his hand down and Loki groaned at the smack, straining on his lap. One hand grabbed Tom’s trouser leg and the other scrabbled on the sheet. His cock was hard against his thigh, a wet spot already felt through the material.

“Look at you, squirming like a whore.” He yanked on the collar and Loki’s head snapped up, mouth open in a gasp. “Are you my whore? My cum slut? Are you mine?” He smacked him again and Loki’s hips moved down, trying to find friction for his cock.

Tom grabbed his hair instead and pulled hard, Loki crying out. “You will not come. And I asked you a question.” He slapped him again, the supple flesh of Loki’s bottom bouncing beautifully under his hand. He smoothed over the enflamed skin, heat warming his tingling fingers. “Are you my fucking _whore_?”

Loki was breathing hard, his eyes half closed, tears glistening just under his black lashes. “Yes,” he breathed. “I’m yours, Thomas.” His hips thrust down again. “Yours.”

Tom lowered Loki’s head, skimming his hand through his hair so that Loki purred when he scratched lightly at his scalp. His other hand parted Loki’s red cheeks and he fingered his hole. He whimpered and lifted his hips.

“Do you want my cock, hmm? What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck me hard,” was Loki’s immediate response. “Oh, fuck me, Thomas. Do it.”

“On your knees.”

Loki scrambled off his lap, positioning himself on all fours, widening his legs to accommodate Tom behind him.

He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock.

Loki looked at him over his shoulder. “Don’t take the time. I want it like this. I want it to hurt. Just do it.”

Tom brought his hand down on his ass again and Loki stuttered into silence.

He lined himself up with Loki’s entrance, extremely conscious of how dry he was but Loki was pushing back, insistent. Letting saliva gather in his mouth, he spit down and used as much of his own natural lubricant as he could, smoothing the tip of his cock over the furled skin before finally, with a tremulous breath, breaching.

Loki choked out a cry, knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the sheets. He growled and pushed back.

Tom swallowed and caught his hips, holding him still as he fucked into him. His head fell back at the sensation, the heat, their _pulses._ “ _Fuck_ , you’re tight.” He pushed in and pulled back, letting Loki adjust to him, until he was finally seated deep inside.

Holding still for a moment, their breaths loud in the room, he slammed in hard and Loki cried out again, his feet coming up to wrap around Tom’s thighs. Tom took the leash and slowly wound the length of it around Loki’s neck until only the handle was clutched tight in his hand. He yanked and Loki shot straight up, back arched.

“Are you sorry for what you did?”

Loki chuckled before Tom slammed in again and he cut off with a gasp. And Tom kept his rhythm hard, hand pulling on the leash, Loki’s air cut off to intermittent wheezing. His buttocks were hot against Tom’s pelvis, but he thrust harder, his pace never wavering, until Loki was sobbing quietly.

Tom eased up on the leash so that Loki could suck in air, but took hold of his hair to keep him steady.

After pounding hard for so long, the pressure in Tom’s balls building dangerously, the cock ring suddenly disappeared from his body. He laughed quietly, staring down at where his cock disappeared into Loki, realizing he’d removed the magic to make Tom come faster.

“So clever,” he murmured, pulling free of his body as Loki’s arms gave out. He put on the spare he bought, admiring how Loki lay panting on the bed, eyes fluttering closed at the sight of Tom’s new cock ring.

“Did you think we were done, my love?”

Loki groaned weakly, completely pliant when Tom spread his legs and draped himself over him, his cock entering easily in one thrust. He fucked him hard, the mattress rocking with his motion.

Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose and landed between Loki’s shoulder blades. He smoothed the hair back from his forehead, Loki’s mouth hanging open as he gasped for air. “I can do this all night, my heart.” He rammed hard and Loki’s eyes squeezed shut. “Just say what I want to hear. And _mean_ it.”

Loki’s lips closed into a tight smile and he stared resolutely at the wall.

“Very well then,” Tom said, planting a hand in the middle of his back and grabbing the leash again. His thrusting went on for what felt like hours, until Loki was trembling and mumbling something under his breath.

Tom leaned down, grateful for the respite. “What’s that, darling?”

Loki licked his lips. “Thomas…please.”

Tom kept rocking into him. “Please, what?”

He thrust hard and Loki inhaled. “I’m sorry! Thomas…I’m sorry.” Words burst from him in a frenzy. “I fully intended on taking you your coffee and leaving but then that _bitch_ of a secretary waltzed in and started touching you, practically mothering you, going on about whether or not you were hungry like it’s any of her concern, like you don’t have someone who cares for you at home, who also wonders if you’re hungry or thirsty or warm enough, if you’re hurt, if you’re alright and safe, someone who worries for you, because I _do_ , Thomas. I love you and always will.” He growled and lifted himself up. Tom would have lost his balance had Loki not grabbed him and flipped him to the bed, straddling his hips and sinking down on his cock again with a sharp hiss.

From this angle, the leash swung and trailed Tom’s chin.

“Take this blasted thing off me,” Loki growled, hands on Tom’s shoulders. Tom reached up to unwind the leash when Loki batted his hand away. “Not that. I like that on me. _This_ ,” he said, guiding Tom’s hand to the ring around his angry cock. “Why does it work so well on me?”

Tom smiled breathlessly and loosened the ring, tossing it aside. “I think because you want it to work so well, darling.”

Loki let his head drop back, sighing lovingly, his own hand coming up to wrap around Tom’s neck. He started bouncing, small cries falling from his lips. “Oh, Thomas. My magnificent mortal. I fucking love your cock. It’s mine. _You’re_ mine.”

Tom nodded, his voice lost somewhere in his throat, entirely dazed at how quickly the situation had reversed. And when Loki angled his hips just right, seizing violently, coming hard and loud, he relished in the hot come spurting out onto his chest, moving his hand to milk Loki’s cock dry. It pulsed and jumped in his grip until Loki growled and pushed his hand away.

“Come on then, my dove,” Loki said, leaning back on his legs, swiveling his hips, rotating languidly, his still hard dick flopping against Tom’s abdomen. “Come for me.”

Tom felt his new cock ring disappear and he startled. “What did you do with it?”

Loki winked. “I put it away somewhere for later use.”

“You damnable—.” But Loki slid down expertly and Tom cried out and arched, shooting his load deep into Loki, who squeezed his inner muscles, wringing out his climax until, shaking, he grasped his hips, trying to lift him off, so impossible.

“Goddamn,” Tom said, breathing hard. His head lolled to the side, lifting his arms to hug Loki to him.

They lay together, Loki thrown comfortably on him. He rocked his hips every few seconds, kissing the tears that sprang to Tom’s eyes.

“So…you apologize…?”

Loki squeezed and Tom grunted, still sunk deep inside him. “Don’t push it, Thomas. I said it, didn’t I?”

“Yes, love, you did.”

Tom unwound the leash from Loki’s neck and unclipped the collar, letting it fall to the bed heavily. Loki’s skin was bruised red and puffy, but he smiled down at Tom.

“Where on this earth did you get such items, Thomas?” Loki asked as he slid off him and flopped to his back.

Tom made himself busy with removing his trousers, careful with his sensitive dick. “I told you. I made a stop after work.”

He was about to climb off the bed when Loki seized his wrist. “You will show me this place.”

“Only if you behave.”

“We’ll see about that,” Loki said with a smile, picking Tom up like a bride and carrying him into the bathroom.

**

It was bitterly cold outside and it seeped into the house through cracks and rattling windowpanes, creeping along the floor, rising to press heavily against Tom’s limbs. He was bundled up in jeans and two sweaters, with thick socks on his feet. He leaned against the counter and waited for the water to rise to a boil for tea, watching snow fall steadily just outside the kitchen. He shook his head at the insistency in those delicate, powerful flurries, completely enthralled by the majesty of that moment.

In the living room, he could hear the channels changing every few seconds, Loki evidently not pleased with what was coming out on television. 

“Thomas,” Loki called from the other room.

“Yes?”

“What is ‘thanksgiving’?”

"Just a sec." He prepped his tea and took it into the living room cupped between his palms.

He sat on the couch beside Loki, tucking his legs under him. Loki’s hand settled on his thigh immediately.

On the television, a huge crowd of people was waving excitedly at colorful floats and giant balloons held down by long wires.

"It's the Macy's Day Parade! I love watching this.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at the television.

“It’s an American holiday.” He scrunched his brows in thought. “I want to say that Canada celebrates it too, but I can’t be sure. Anyway, it’s the official day the nation gives thanks for its blessings and general well being. Originally meant for a bountiful harvest, but well, times change. There’s this great big feast in every home and the parade is a big deal too. So many turkeys die.”

Confused, Loki looked at him.

“It’s what they eat. Well, most Americans. There are variations on the traditional meal. But it’s usually turkey. There’s an official presidential pardon and everything.”

They sat and watched the rest of the parade, Tom explaining what this or that cartoon character was, enjoying all the live singing and commentating. Loki mostly scowled at the screen, his fingers running small circles over Tom’s knees.

After a while, Tom put his empty cup on the side table and took Loki’s hand.

“Darling…does it bother you very much about Emily being my secretary?”

“Does it bother me very much that a female is your assistant? No. It bothers me very much that she feels some form of familiarity with you that enables her to frequent touching and inaccurate insinuation.”

Tom looked down. “Honestly, darling, I didn’t think you would care.” Loki’s eyes snapped to his and he hurried to explain. “You are so reserved and remote from other humans, I honestly didn’t think one colleague would be worth your notice. But I see now that I was mistaken and I do apologize. I will tell her about you as soon as the occasion arises.”

Loki blinked and looked down. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Tom tucked a strand of black hair behind Loki’s ear and touched his forehead affectionately. “I was thinking sometime late next summer, you and I could go away for a bit.” He smiled when Loki’s eyes widened in curiosity. “It’s something I’ve only just started planning and there are many months to go yet, but I really am looking forward to it. It’ll be a place you and I can escape to; a place you will be comfortable in, suited to your needs.”

“A cold place.”

Tom laughed quietly. “Yes, my love. A cold place.”

Loki leaned down and placed his head in the crook of Tom’s neck. “Thank you.”

Outside, the snow gathered in tiny mounds against the windows 

**

The poetry reading at the university was in a few days and Tom was browsing the site for more information. He had a rare quiet moment to himself at his office, his work load lighter than usual, something not uncommon during the holidays. He squirmed in his seat, the bruise Loki left that morning on his inner thigh twanging whenever he moved.

Someone knocked on his door and Emily poked her head in.

“Hi, Tom.”

Tom smiled up at her and closed out of his browser. “Emily, good morning. How was your weekend?”

“Oh, the usual. Cleaned up, tried to relax, visited with my parents. I wanted to do some yard work but the snowfall made that impossible.” She came around and sat on the edge of his desk. He straightened some papers and scooted back a bit in his chair. “The burden of living alone.”

He nodded. “Yes, well. I had that same problem a few years back. But I’m living with someone now and it’s a tremendous help, especially when they are inclined to colder weather and don’t mind the yard work.” In all honesty, Loki usually stood out in the yard and flicked his wrist, trimming the bushes and raking the leaves in the blink of an eye. Tom would watch from inside, shaking his head, but it was the thought that counted. 

“Oh. Do you live with family?”

“No. I live with my boyfriend.”

She blinked and he smoothed down his tie.

“Boyfriend?”

“Yes. Loki. He’s my boyfriend. Has been for almost three years now.”

“You’re gay?” Her voice was so quiet, a flush creeping up her neck.

“Well, I like to consider myself to be bisexual, but that’s hardly important.” He cleared his throat, twiddling his thumbs. This was so inappropriate, but it needed to be said.

She was quiet. And then burst out into a nervous laughter. “Oh, god. I’m—I’m so sorry, Tom! I…oh my god.” She slid off his desk and walked around to the front, smoothing back her bangs distractedly. “How embarrassing. This is really just—I can’t…I’m sorry.”

He sprang to his feet. “Emily, listen. There’s no need to be sorry. You’ve been my secretary for many years now. Longer than I’ve been with Loki. And, if it must be said, I believed you and I might have had something earlier on, but that can’t be anymore. You’re my friend and a colleague. I don’t want to lose you as either over a misunderstanding.”

When he saw tears in her eyes, he felt absolutely terrible, mortified even, that he didn’t know how to better explain himself. He stood by while she gathered herself.

“No, you’re right. Just give me a minute.” She fanned her eyes with an envelope she grabbed off his desk, batting her lashes to make the tears disappear faster. “I’m sorry. I was just under the impression that…oh never mind.” She laughed again and looked down quickly.

“Please. It’s alright. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He laughed and then she laughed and they hugged briefly, laughing together.

“I’m so glad this is out and clear between us,” he said when he pulled back.

“Me too. Oh, but I feel like such a fool.”

“Don’t. You aren’t a fool. You’re my dearest friend in this company. I do so value our friendship.”

She sniffed, but smiled kindly. “I do, too.” She smoothed her skirt and patted at her cheeks. “So…Loki? That’s quite an unusual name.”

“Uh…yes. Well, he has…uh, Scandinavian ancestry and it’s quite common to be named after gods where he’s from.”

“Loki is a god?”

He almost misunderstood her. _Almost._ “Yes. The god of mischief or chaos or something like that. From what I understood. His parents must have had quite the sense of humor to name him after such a person. If he were to exist, that is.” He swallowed nervously and crossed his arms.

She nodded and laughed along. “Well. I better get back to work. Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and your two o’clock appointment will be here soon.” She touched her cheeks. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Emily. Thank you.”

When he arrived back at the house, it was quiet. “Loki?”

He was hanging his coat and scarf by the door when he was grabbed from behind and flipped onto his back over the table.

“Jesus!”

“Hmm, no. Wrong god.” Loki said, kissing down his neck. He frowned. “You always say that god’s name.”

Tom blushed, still surprised at having Loki sucking a bruise at his throat so soon after walking in. “It’s just a…form of expression. Nothing…ah…personal.” He gasped when Loki bit down and ground his pelvis low. Tom could feel his erection through his trousers.

“My god,” he breathed.

“Yes, I am,” Loki answered.

“You’re more mischievous than usual,” Tom said, the toes of his shoes skimming the floor, trying to gain some leverage against Loki.

“Oh yes. Must be this name my parents gave me.”

Tom froze. “You were there.”

Loki thrust down and Tom moaned. “Yes.” In a flash, he relieved Tom of his trousers, quickly grinding their crotches together. “Yes.” He held Tom down by the wrists, knowing exactly how much pressure to exert without breaking his bones, just enough to bruise him. Moving his hips, Tom’s whimpers sounded beautifully in his ears. “Yes, Thomas. I was there. Thank you.”

They kissed and Loki took Tom to a place where touch was a burning brand and quiet was a roaring, a place they both knew well, uniquely and together, entirely.

**

As much as Tom knew putting a few days between himself and a conflict would help him feel better about it, it was not so with Loki. Despite his mischief and increased stamina in bed, Loki would often withdraw into himself, brood silently and alone, so that Tom would find him at odd corners of the house, staring into space.

It was Saturday and the poetry reading was that night. Tom was just about done with the laundry when he wondered where Loki had gone. The house was still and too quiet as he folded their clothes.

Looking out the window, he saw Loki by the tree in the corner of their yard, gusts of snow swirling around him. His skin was blue, and even though he didn't look up at him, Tom knew that those eyes were as red as rubies.

He bundled himself up in a sweater and coat, jeans and some old boots a client of his from California had gifted him as a thank you for working on his case. Winding a green scarf around his neck, he trekked out through the snow to where Loki stood.

He was shirtless and the vivid blue of his skin was startling in that bright light. Runes and scars stood out starkly and he so desired to trace them with a finger, in their bed, on a warmer afternoon.

Loki’s hair had grown so long, it snapped and rose in the brisk wind. Tom stepped up behind him and twisted it into a simple plait, letting it lay heavily against the first knot of his spine. When Loki turned, flashing him a small smile, he held in his hand a tiny gnarled branch, dead this late in the winter.

“What is it?”

Loki motioned with his chin to watch and Tom did, eyes widening when the branch jumped in his blue palm. The bark split down the middle and a simple pink cherry blossom bloomed from beneath.

Taking his arm, safe from his touch through the layers of clothing, Loki let the bloom fall into Tom’s hand just as small green leaves sprouted to frame the lovely flower.

“Thank you, Loki,” Tom said, bringing the flower up close to his face to inspect it.

Loki was touching his hair softly, bending his head close when he suddenly stiffened, head snapping up. His red eyes flashed dangerously as they searched the blinding sky and after a moment, he was back in his usual form, skin white and eyes green.

“Loki? What’s wrong?”

Panicked, he looked down at Tom. “Run. Thomas, run!”

He tried to shove Tom toward the house, but Tom collided with an invisible wall. He clutched his shoulder, gasping in pain.

Loki cursed in the same language Tom sometimes heard when he dreamt. He grabbed Tom and crushed him to his chest just as a bright light descended on them.

"Hold tight to me," Loki whispered in his ear. "I won't let them separate us. You listen to me, Thomas. Will you listen?"

"Yes," he said nodding, as they were pulled up into a cylinder of rainbow lights, both terrifyingly and gloriously familiar. It was dizzying and Tom felt his stomach lurch. Clinging to Loki, he held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, but none of it could keep the streaming lights from zooming by, their colors like fire behind his eyelids.

Unlike the last time Tom had been snatched up into the sky and landed hard on the most beautiful golden floor he'd even seen, Loki kept them upright once they materialized on firm ground again.

Before Tom could so much as take a cursory glance around, Loki crowded him back against one of the gleaming gold walls, standing directly in front of him and facing the room. He extended his arms and bracketed Tom in, his entire body tight with tension. 

"What is the meaning of this, Gatekeeper?" Loki's voice was soft, a sure sign of the extent of his rage.

"My Prince," Tom heard, that voice reminiscent of deep rivers and dark nights, a voice Tom recognized as Heimdall's.

"We did not summon you. Why were we taken up?"

"Upon orders from my queen. That is why."

Tom peeked over Loki's shoulder and Heimdall's golden eyes fell on him.

"Thomas. Welcome back to Asgard."

"Hello, Heimdall. Thank you." Heimdall was standing on his perch, his great sword held before him, that small pleasant smile on his face.

"Quiet now, Thomas," Loki murmured to him, his arms shaking slightly. Tom put a hand on his waist, his skin cool beneath his fingers.

“My prince is cautious. That I can understand. But no harm will come to you or your mortal."

"Return us to Midgard this instant. This is highly inappropriate."

"That I cannot do. Not until my Queen gives me express leave to do so."

Loki bristled and pressed back against Tom more.

“A guard has been summoned to accompany you to the palace.”

“A jailer more like,” Loki hissed and Tom rubbed his forehead against Loki’s shoulder blade, hoping to calm him.

“Darling, it’s alright,” he whispered in his ear. “I truly think we will not be harmed here. Wouldn’t they have done so when I came the last time?”

Loki’s eyes shifted frantically around the room. “I don’t know, Thomas. I don’t know.”

Tom froze. Loki almost never willingly admitted to not knowing something. He would used word play and counter-arguments to gain leverage, but claiming to downright not know something alarmed Tom. He knew Loki’s fear stemmed mainly from being caught by surprise. He was in a position he felt was dangerous to Tom and didn’t know how to remove him from it. Tom tried to imagine what he would feel like if the situation were reversed and Loki was the one in danger, and it suddenly made the clearest sense to him.

Loki spun and clasped Tom’s face between his hands, brows furrowed in worry. “I love you. No matter what, I love you.”

Tears blurred Tom’s sight, Loki’s anxiety feeding his own. “I love you, too. But, why is this happening?”

Loki shook his head, straightening and taking his hand. “We’ll soon find out,” he said, as a guard on horseback approached along the Rainbow Bridge, two rider-less steeds trotting behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends. I must say that I am anticipating this story will be ending very soon. A few more chapters, at least. I just wanted to provide fair warning, as you all have been such kind and wonderful supporters of this little story of mine; a story I hold extremely dear to my heart. I will add a final chapter number once I know for sure how many are left.  
> For this and the next chapter, please be aware that I have taken great liberty with the Norse legends/myths regarding Frigga’s abilities as a healer/seer and another little bit that I don’t want to reveal before you read this chapter. I’m sure you’ll have more of an idea where I’m going with it once you have this chapter done. But I will add more in the notes for the next installment. 
> 
> I change POV’s between Tom and Loki a few times in this one. I hope it’s not too confusing. And if it is, I apologize.  
> Thank you for all of your support and love. It enlivened me, truly. 
> 
> Warnings for: gratuitous crying, sex without preparation, biting/bleeding bite marks, author doesn’t know anything.

Across the incredible expanse of water, a daring and gargantuan sun rose over the horizon, alighting everything in a golden blaze. Passing into the open air on the bridge, Tom stopped to stare at the majesty of it.

Their escort stopped a few feet short of them, dismounting and bowing low before Loki.

Loki, on the other hand, practically growled when the guard offered Tom a leg up onto the first horse.

"These beasts are superfluous. Thomas," he said, holding out his hand. Tom took it and then Loki turned to the man with a sneer and grabbed his arm. There was a shift in the air and the temperature dropped considerably as they materialized in a grand front hall.

He gaped at the vastness of the room, craning his head to take in the great height of it all. Tall columns rose like sentinels from floor to ceiling and alternated down the length of the hall to end before a high throne, empty.

The guard straightened his armor and frowned at Loki. "I would most appreciate it if His Highness would provide warning before such a trick."

Loki narrowed his eyes at the man. "You will continue to go unappreciated. Now tell me where she is."

"This way."

Here a chill clung to one’s skin and Tom stepped closer to Loki, holding the arm already clasping his hand, highly conscious of Loki’s naked torso.

“Darling,” he whispered and Loki turned. He touched his ribs with a finger and Loki nodded.

“You’re right.”

A glimmer later and Loki was outfitted in a uniform of sorts, black leather trousers with boots and a tunic of green cotton fabric.

Tom’s mouth went dry. He seemed taller, somehow.

They left the great hall and continued down wide corridors lined with windows of gorgeous metalwork and stained glass. From their passing views, Tom stared at the brilliant cityscape. He truly hoped he would have a chance to explore more of this realm than the last time he had been here. There was glittering water and tall towers, everything sparkling like so many jewels, so much more than he could possibly glimpse in the few seconds before it was gone and they continued down the passageway, their steps muted on the rug lining the center of the floor. He trailed after Loki, hands still held firmly, his head turning this way and that to catch sight of everything. There were giant tapestries depicting great battles and planetary movements and alignments. The colors were extraordinary and Tom pointed uselessly at the wonder of them all.

Loki tugged him along, scowling at mostly everything. 

They finally paused before a tall golden door.

The guard knocked formerly three times and then pushed the door open. From his spot behind Loki, Tom could see that the inner chamber was dimly lit and warm. Very warm. Against the far wall, he saw dancing shadows and knew there to be a fire lit somewhere within. He recognized it immediately.

It was the chamber in which he had awoken his last time on Asgard, after his rather embarrassing loss of consciousness on the Rainbow Bridge.

These were Frigga's rooms, he realized, as Loki seemed to straighten his back and take an inaudible deep breath.

"Where is Odin?" he whispered, clearly addressing the guard.

"Off realm, Your Highness. With the Crown Prince."

Loki's breath eased out of him in obvious relief.

He nodded, either to the guard or to himself, for courage perhaps, and stared into the cavernous room with its flickering shadows, which now showed a ripple of movement.

A figure, silhouetted in the firelight, stood from where it had been sitting, but the voice was unmistakable.

"Loki?"

It was a bit breathless, with just enough hope laced in that one name that Tom was suddenly stricken with the reminder that Frigga had been denied Loki’s presence for longer than should ever be expected of any mother.

Loki's feet moved forward, but Tom sensed a hesitation in his body, the way his hand tightened around his, the rigid line of his shoulders. Tom had no idea just how long it had been since mother and son had last seen each other, but he anticipated it was too long; that as Frigga and Loki took hesitant steps toward each other, the air in the warm room crackled.

Behind them, the door closed with a resonant boom and Tom jumped, glancing to see that the guard was gone and the three of them were alone in the room.

But Loki and Frigga seemed not to have heard, only stopped a few paces from each other, Frigga's eyes bright with unshed tears, a smile lit beautifully on her face.

"Loki," she said again, as if relishing his name, a tear spilling from her eye and rolling down her cheek.

"Mother," he answered, equally soft, and the tender way he said it nearly tore Tom's heart in two. Loki gave his hand a squeeze and then released it, taking two steps and engulfing Frigga in a hug.

"Oh, my son," she said through her tears. "My boy." Her eyes were closed tight, happiness rolling off her in waves as she clutched Loki to her, standing on tiptoes as he bent to hold her.

Tom smiled and crossed his arms, trying to stave off his own sudden emotions at their display of affection. He wanted to give them privacy, to let them talk, as he knew they rightly deserved to do. But unless he crept to a far corner of the room, there was nowhere to go. And there was no way Loki would allow him to roam the palace alone.

As he was edging away, intent on folding himself before the fire to wait quietly, Frigga pulled back, her eyes dancing over her son’s face.

Gripping his arms, almost afraid he would vanish, she turned to Tom with a gracious smile, teary eyes and all.

“Thomas. Do forgive me. How are you, child?” She held her arms out to him and he walked into her embrace, so warm and solid and _loving._

“Quite well, thank you. Just a bit surprised is all.” He shrugged and smiled shyly.

She nodded. “I know and I am terribly sorry for removing you both so suddenly from your life on Midgard, but it was with the utmost importance that I speak to Loki. Alone.”

Loki, who throughout all this, was staring at Frigga as if she were some kind of vision, blinked suddenly and focused.

“What is it? Thomas can hear anything you have to tell me.”

“No, Loki, it’s quite alright. I think you two should talk. I absolutely respect your mother’s wishes.” Addressing Frigga, Tom said, “Where may I sit so that I am not underfoot?”

She cupped his cheek, fresh tears springing to her eyes. “Oh, but you are a delight, Thomas. A true and rare delight.”

Her emotion poured off her so strongly that Tom frowned, not understanding why.

Immediately picking up on Frigga’s distress, Loki took her elbow. “Let us speak, then.”

“If Thomas would be so kind as to wait in the library down the hall—.”

Loki’s voice dropped. “He is not leaving this room.”

Frigga sighed in a way that showed she knew he would say that. “Very well, my son. The chairs by the hearth will be fine. You and I can go further in and talk by my worktable.

Thomas, thank you for understanding. I do apologize,” she said laughing quietly, wiping at her moist cheeks. “I am a sentimental fool, it seems.”

“No. You are not,” Tom said, quick to reassure her. “I am happy to wait. Please take as long as you need.”

Loki led him to the chairs before the fire. “I do not know what is so pressing, but I am suddenly afraid.”

“Don’t be, love. I think she just missed you and got tired of waiting for her stubborn son to visit her.”

Loki tossed him a glare but then softened. “Are you alright? Coming here again so suddenly…I am sorry. I should have taken better care that you weren’t brought up with me.”

“Enough of that now,” Tom said, gripping his hand. “I am with you. That’s all that matters. Had you been taken up and I stuck at home, I would be driven mad with worry, imagining what might possibly be happening to you…I am glad to be here. It was time, anyway, to come back I think.”

Loki kissed his cheek. “We’ll be just there,” he said, nodding to the far corner, where Frigga was standing still as a statue.

Tom watched him go, his back slightly rounded. Sighing, he dropped down into a plush chair and picked up a book from a side table, the words unintelligible to him, but the illustrations were beyond gorgeous. He hunkered down and started to flip through the pages.

**

She was a sight.

Long hair in loose waves, small braids tied back behind her head in a delicate and intricate fashion, long blue gown flowing softly down her small figure, Loki had never seen her more beautiful.

His mother.

"Here,” she said, indicating to a set of chairs. When seated across from each other, she clasped his hands, watching him.

“You look well, my darling. Your hair has grown!”

He looked down, suddenly bashful. His hair was loose on his shoulders again, the braid Tom made him having fallen apart during their trip between worlds. “Yes. I haven’t had interest in cutting it.”

“Because he likes it like this.”

He blushed despite himself. “Perhaps.”

Her eyes glanced across the room. He followed her gaze and both watched as Tom read a book, brow scrunched in concentration, the light of the fire basking him in a golden glow. Loki swallowed, his heart clenching.

“Loki, I have always respected your express desire to remain on Midgard. And I have asked Heimdall to watch over you. Please do not hate your mother for doing so—.”

“I could never hate you,” Loki cut in, eyes shut tight, just the thought of her believing so making angry tears threaten. Damn all these tears! Being in her presence again after so long a time had him in an emotional maelstrom. “I could never hate you,” he said again more softly, opening his eyes. “I needed to be away from here only because I cannot or have been unable to reconcile the fact that my life has gone so far astray from how it used to be when I was as a child. My actions were deplorable. And my relationship with Thor—.” He broke off, mouth setting in a hard line at his many regrets. “Thomas has tried to reason with me that it was all so long ago and that I have changed and part of me wants to believe him, may even _try_ to believe him in time, but it is a difficult thing to do for one who has been in the habit of self-deprecation.”

Her smile fell sadly. “I have missed you.”

“And I, you. Every day.”

“I wish we had more time to spend that I might hear from you how you and Thomas share a life together, all about how you’ve grown in your love for him. Because I can tell. I can see it so clearly. He is like a glow on your skin. You have always been stunning, my love, but he makes you positively incandescent.”

He looked down, feeling unworthy of her praise.

"But I absolutely needed to confer with you about another matter. It is most urgent.”

He looked up at her, catching the way her eyes again shifted to the far off figure of Tom bent over a book. He sat up, something hard coming over the way his lips formed his next words.

"What is your meaning? Tell me."

**

Gilt and gleaming illustrations had Tom absorbed in the pages of the book in his lap. It seemed the story was about a giant tree whose branches, gnarled and ancient, extended over a sky laden with diamond studded pinpricks of fire. Stars, obviously, but all the same, they seemed to shrink and twinkle, zooming to brightness before fading again in a cycle of muted and brilliant luminescence. In awe, he was tracing his fingers over the edge of the page when Loki's voice suddenly rose from the far corner.

"That cannot be."

Tom turned, frowning.

Frigga said something quietly to Loki, who was now standing over her. She took his hand, soothing his arm, but he pulled from her grasp, his green eyes immediately seeking out Tom.

Setting the book aside, Tom stood and took a few steps closer to the pair.

“What’s happened? Is everything alright?”

Loki said nothing, only stared at him, eyes dancing over Tom’s face, frantic in their search of…something. “No,” he whispered, closing his eyes in a sort of defeat.

Frigga stood. “I know it’s difficult to bear but we will find a solution. Please, let us talk about—.”

“Forgive me, mother, but we must leave you now. I need time to think.”

She stepped forward in a hurry. “Not back to Midgard? So soon?”

“No, to my chambers. Assuming, they are still…mine?”

“Of course. Everything is as you left it. I saw to that.”

“We will come to you tonight.”

She nodded and watched as Loki pulled Tom to the golden door and out into the hall.

Down more winding passageways, lit and heated by burning sconces, Tom followed Loki, practically jogging to keep up with him.

“Loki,” he whispered, but he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t explain to him what was happening. What could Frigga have told him to make him this upset? Was it about Thor? Or about the mysterious Odin, whom he’d yet to lay eyes on.

But knowing Loki, he just needed some time to himself to sort through it all in his head. He promised her they would return to her chambers that night. Maybe then he would get some answers. He doubted if Loki would talk to him right now.

Finally slowing before yet another golden door, this one at the dead end of a corridor, Loki paused and touched his palm to the cool surface.

Almost as if bracing himself, he pushed solidly against the it, letting it swing open before them.

In a space just as large as Frigga’s, Loki’s rooms yawned open. It was darker in there, the air cooler, giving the distinct impression of not having been lived in. They stepped in and Loki closed the door, sealing it with a rather impressive degree of green magic.

It was absolute silence. He could distinguish a hearth in the gloom, its fire long dead, and other shadows farther off.

“Will you ple—

Loki spun and grabbed him in a hard kiss.

Tom froze, his face framed in cool hands. Walking him backwards to the bed, he gently pushed him down until Tom was sitting on the edge.

Putting his hand over Tom’s mouth, he held it there for a long moment, eyes cast down in the way he did when trying to compose himself. Just as quickly he stood and stalked to the other side of the room, where high bookshelves lined the wall. Flicking his hand, flames burst to life in the fireplace and the room was finally illuminated.

Receiving Loki’s message loud and clear, Tom kept silent, his eyes taking in the details of the room. The bed he sat on was much bigger than the one in their room back home, covered in black sheets with dark green and gold thread stitched into the edges. Tall posts rose from the four corners of the bed frame, dark gleaming wood topped by the heads of howling wolves.

Two armchairs by the fireplace, a great rug spread beneath them; a balcony with closed doors and green drapes just to the side of where Loki was pulling down books from the shelves; a room off to the side corner where Tom assumed a type of wardrobe lay in darkness.

At the other corner stood a door and he stood, walking toward it. Just within was a room made of mottled stone that reminded him of lava rock. A large stone basin took up the middle of the room. Empty of water, Tom saw that it was deep enough to sit or float in and he suddenly imagined a younger Loki resting in this great bath after a hard day of training, both weaponry and academic. Set into its surface were white and green jewels and he peered closer, wanting to touch them.

Two metal levers rose from one side of it and, after casting a glance out into the main room, pushed one down. Water gushed forth, frigid cold. The second lever stabilized the water’s temperature and the basin began to fill. Stripping of his clothes, Tom climbed in, thinking now was as good a time as ever to sit alone and think.

**

Nothing. He was finding nothing.

Nor did he expect to. Not entirely, anyway.

After what Frigga had just told him, Loki’s mind had been frantic in his search of a solution. He knew of only one at the moment and he doubted if it would work.

It would work, actually. It was acquiring it that would take some thought.

And as he turned page after page, tossing books aside after being rendered useless, Loki rested closed fists on the table, sighing.

“ _I’ve had a vision, Loki. I’ve seen how it will be.”_

_No_ , he thought, slamming his hand onto the table and hearing it splinter.

In the other room, he heard the sound of water and turned to see that Thomas had left the room.

_He’s found the bath_ , he thought and then his face crumpled in tears.

His lovely, inquisitive mortal.

What a terrible, immensely tragic mistake to have fallen in love with a human. How had Thor done it? At that time, Loki couldn’t have given less of damn. He’d considered Thor weak, an absolute idiot to have succumbed to the wiles and beauty of that woman scientist. Highly inconvenient to love someone who lived so short a time.

Someone who deserved more time. Someone who deserved the best, more than he ever claimed for himself.

He wept silently, bent forward, great waves of emotion burning his lungs and weakening his legs. Pressing his hand against his mouth, he stifled his anguish, his thoughts only on the man in the other room.

It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t. Not when he’d taken every precaution, every measure of safety—.

He straightened, wiping his tears in anger.

He wouldn’t allow it. Not while Loki still drew breath.

Turning on his heel he swept across his chamber and into the washroom, stopping dead just inside the door.

Tom was floating on the surface of the water, facedown.

His heart clenched violently, froze over completely and a word screamed loudly in his mind.

_NO._

He launched into the water and snatched Tom up, bringing his face above water.

“Thomas!”

Tom immediately began to struggle and it surprised Loki, this live, warm body and its strength, so slippery in his arms, when he had expected a cold stiffness.

“Loki! What the hell!”

Tom spluttered and coughed, wiping his face to clear his vision.

“You were drowning, Thomas!”

Heaving breaths. “I was not.” He coughed again, trying to clear his airway.

“Well, it certainly looked that way to me!”

“Not until you scared the shit out of me and I inhaled all that fucking water!”

Loki growled. “I thought you were dead.”

They stared at each other, rivulets of water washing down their faces. Loki’s clothes were heavy and distinctly uncomfortable on him and Tom’s naked body was cast in ripples by their sudden movements.

Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was looking at the jewels. The bloody jewels at the bottom of the basin. I wasn’t drowning, for heaven’s sake.”

Loki followed his finger to where diamonds and emeralds twinkled brightly and innocently just beneath their feet. He’d completely forgotten they were there. But to someone as in awe with all things beautiful as Tom was, he would have wanted a closer look.

“You told me to be quiet. Well, not in so many words, but I know you wanted silence to think over whatever your mother had told you, so I was quiet. I wandered in here and figured out the bath and got in. I was giving you your bloody space and I didn’t—I didn’t think how it would look if you happened to walk in here.” He looked down, sitting down heavily on the smooth shelf that ran along the inside wall. “I’m sorry.”

A sudden rush of anger burned through Loki’s veins, not at Tom, never at Tom, but at the very idea of his death— _his death!—_ again being thrown to the forefront of his thoughts. He wouldn’t stand for it.

Tom caught the look in his eyes and sat back a few inches. “Loki?”

Naked in a flash, Loki pushed through the water and gathered Tom close. Tom’s eyes widened but his legs opened immediately for Loki, whose hips sought for purchase, cock hard. He thrust in and Tom seized in pain, crying out, eyes shut tight, arms clasped around Loki’s shoulders.

But then all the pain faded for him as Loki whispered the words into the steaming air and Tom fell limp in his arms, letting Loki thrust as he will.

He was crying, Loki realized, alarmed, crowding him against the rim of the tub. Tom cradled his head in soaking wet hands, blue eyes searching his. They moved together, the water lapping over the edge, Tom’s whimpers bouncing over the walls.

“What is it, Loki? Please tell me. What has you so upset? What did she—.” He winced when Loki gave another rough thrust, clasping the back of his neck for balance. His head fell back and Loki latched onto his throat with a hard bite.

Tom choked out a groan, his entire body tightening deliciously for Loki. In what had to be his fastest orgasm, Loki’s hips stuttered to a stop, come bursting into Tom in hot pulses. Oh, but it wasn’t enough, it could never be enough. He needed more than to claim his lover. He needed _assurance_ , more than his own magic could provide and protect.

He released his neck and saw that he had broken skin. Tom’s eyes were drifting closed, but making sure Tom’s shoulders were braced on the edge of the basin, Loki lifted his hips fully out of the water, holding him up and taking his half hard cock into his mouth.

“Loki—,” Tom started, but gasped as his expert tongue licked at his slit. Small drops of blood slid down his neck and gathered in the hollows of his collarbones, pink from mixing with the water. He moaned, long arms stretched out to both sides, his muscles straining, trying to lift his hips even higher.

Taking the hint, Loki took him deep in his throat, bobbing and sucking, eyes on the way Tom writhed and whined before him. And then Tom was coming, bursting come into this mouth, Loki swallowing every drop.

They sank into the pool, Tom reaching for him weakly. They kissed and moaned together, their bodies cooling rapidly. Loki was reaching up to heal the bite wound on Tom’s neck when a pale hand shot out and grasped his wrist.

“No. Leave it. I want it there.”

They quieted, Loki resting his head on Tom’s shoulder, trying to memorize every curve and freckle, the trim muscles, the dusting of hair on his chest, everything.

Tom couldn’t. He just couldn’t—.

“Was it about me?”

Loki froze, waiting.

“What your mother told you? Was it about me?”

Tears blurred Loki’s sight, but he couldn’t see anything even if he wanted to. Nothing would ever deserve the beauty of color again…if…

“Yes,” he whispered and sobbed quietly and resignedly.

Tom sighed and hugged him close. “I would like to see her now.”

Loki rose. “Thomas, we only just arrived. I will figure—.”

“I understand why she felt she needed to tell you first. But if this is about me, then I would like to be actively involved in this conversation.”

Upon Tom’s face was a determination that Loki had come to learn well. It was the way his lips set in a firm line, his brows lifting slightly, as if daring him to object. He would not be budged and Loki would do well not to try to persuade him otherwise.

“Very well, my love. Let us go see her.”

**

Dressing in the same clothes he’d been wearing when they arrived, Tom waited patiently while Loki collected a couple of large tomes to take with them. His neck ached where Loki had bitten him and upon inspecting it in a mirror he saw Loki’s teeth marks were beginning to scab and the skin was darkening rapidly.

Following the same winding path back to Frigga’s chambers, Loki knocked three times before opening the door.

Frigga was not in her rooms, but Loki swept in regardless and set the volumes down on her work table, heading immediately to the bookshelves she had next to her own balcony.

Tom was more hesitant in his approach to her private work area, taking in her many vials of herbs and powders, the very spot she had made the concoction that allowed him to enter Loki’s mind through sleep.

“Are you going to tell me what she said?”

Loki stiffened but continued to rifle through scrolls and old parchment. “I haven’t the heart to say it, Thomas.”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

His back to him, Loki hung his head but said nothing. A tendril of fear started to wind around Tom’s heart at the silent confirmation. No matter how he might have guessed, it was still painful to be reminded of his mortality in the presence of such mighty beings.

Behind them the door opened and Frigga gasped.

“My loves,” she said, crossing the room quickly. She hugged Tom tightly, touching his hair affectionately. And then she went to Loki and they fell into an embrace, it never ceasing to amuse Tom how she had to rise to her tiptoes to reach him. “I’m so glad you are here. I was hoping to speak with you soon. Your father—.”

Loki frowned and Frigga shook her head in apology. “Odin…and Thor will be here by nightfall. You have to decide by then what to do.”

“I’m sorry, please,” Tom cut in. “But decide what to do about what? Loki is extremely upset about something and I am hoping for an explanation.”

Frigga’s eyes drifted down to his bite mark and then back to his face in a hurry. “You are right, Thomas. I do owe you an explanation. Please let us sit.”

“I think we are fine as we are, mother.”

She nodded. “Very well.” She swallowed and began to pace. “A few days past, I had a vision. A vision of you, Thomas. You are at your place of employment, sitting at your desk. You collapse and begin to convulse. And despite the ministrations of your friends, you are dead within minutes.” She stopped and turned to him, eyes wide.

Having surmised enough from Loki’s reaction back in his rooms, Tom still had trouble stomaching such a plain rundown of his impending death.

_Aneurysm,_ was his first thought. It certainly sounded like it. Well, what a way to go. His hands were shaking and he fisted them to stop.

He sought out Loki’s eyes but the god was standing behind Frigga, his entire stance radiating tension, eyes cast down to the floor.

“When last you visited Asgard, I took a lock of your hair while you slept. It allowed me to see further into you, into your heart and the path of your life. Not everything all at once, please understand, but this was the man my son had chosen to love. The man who had broken through those barriers, claiming and calming such a hurricane, barriers we ourselves had for so long tried to figure, loving him no less.” Behind her Loki turned away and walked a ways toward the balcony. “But it was this very action that alerted me to something within you that is steadily weakening. In your brain, dear one. A vessel, a type of—.”

“An artery,” he said for her, his voice rougher than he anticipated. He cleared his throat and touched his temple self-consciously. “A part of the wall will soften and sometimes bulge out. If it ruptures…it causes bleeding in the brain and a stroke and…and death.”

They were quiet, the three of them. All lost in the ramifications of such a fate.

“Is there no way to prevent it?”

Frigga opened her mouth to answer but it was Loki who spoke, arms folded over his chest stoically.

“No. I’ve searched it out in your head and procedures, both human and Asgardian, cannot reach it. Not without extreme risk to you, a risk no physician will take.”

Tom eased down into a chair, hand rising to his mouth. “My.”

Loki and Frigga looked at each other and then Loki was moving. He knelt before Tom, holding his knees in large pale hands.

“Thomas. Frigga brought us here to warn us of this. This is the time you must decide what to do.” He licked his lips and inched closer. “I have in mind a plan that will save you.”

Tom was too stunned to speak, still envisioning that tiny bubble in his brain that would betray him.

“You are speaking of the apples,” Frigga said softly.

“I am,” Loki whispered, eyes never leaving Tom’s face.

“I admit, I had thought of them myself…but the peril.”

“He is worth it,” Loki growled.

“I had considered it…for Jane, many years ago,” Frigga said, staring off to the side, speaking as if to herself. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought of the apples in so long. And in an effort to test her opinion on the idea, I asked her how she felt about it all. Well, I garnered enough to realize she would never have accepted the apple’s gifts. Thor was…distraught…when he realized the same.”

Tom blinked and looked up at them. “What apples are these? Why wouldn’t she have accepted the gifts? Were the terrible?”

Loki smiled and in his eyes were the beginning of tears. When he spoke, his voice was soft, cautious. “To some, the gift given by the apples is a mighty and terrible gift indeed. You will need to accept the gift, for it cannot be undone.”

Tom was tired suddenly. “What is the gift?”

Frigga spoke. “Immortality.”

The fire crackled loudly in the following silence, Tom’s eyes widening at her response. Immortality? Well, he’d certainly missed that tidbit in his research into Loki and the Norse legends. He knew that as gods they were immortal but not because some mysterious fruit.

“I would live forever?”

“Well,” Loki started, searching for the right words. “If you continue to eat the apples. One apple will give you an added lifespan of close to five thousand years.” Tom’s eyes bulged. “Nearing the end of that, if you eat another apple, it continues in that way. It is how the Aesir have extended their own lives. But,” he hurried on, as if sensing how overwhelmed Tom was getting. “Once having consumed the apple, your susceptibility to disease and other failings of the body will be gone. Anything that could kill you, accidents and the like…will not.”

Feeling stifled, Tom stood and Loki moved back to give him room. He laughed quietly, nervously.

“This is certainly a lot to think about. Um. I can see why this requires such serious thought.” He touched his forehead again, pacing. Something Frigga had said stuck in his mind. “But what do you mean by peril?”

Loki and Frigga glanced at each other and Loki sighed. “The fault is mine. When I was younger and more determined in my mischief, I played a trick on Idunn, the goddess of spring. She is the one who watches over the apples, nurturing them, harvesting them for us. I… _allowed_ …her and the majority of the apples to be taken by Thiassi, a giant, to his realm. When everyone started to lose their youth, I was forced to return her and the apples to their rightful place. I took the form of a falcon and turned her into a nut, carrying her in my beak. But the apples were lost. And those that were left behind, Idunn is extremely protective over, for they no longer grow in abundance like before.”

Tom nodded. “I see. So you would have to go get an apple. But she hates you so, what does that mean?”

“Most likely, she will try to kill me. She will not hear my reason for needing the apple and she will definitely not give me one freely. I will have to break my way into the orchard where the apples grow. But she is more cunning after my cruelty toward her. She has certain protections in place. I…doubt I would be able to do it alone. My clones will help. Will be a distraction, but…”

Frigga moved closer to her son and touched his arm. “He will help you if you ask him.”

Loki shook his head stubbornly, but then his eyes caught on Tom, panic clearly set on his face.

“But for Thomas, I would do anything.”

“I know he will help you,” Frigga assured him.

“Who?” Tom asked.

Loki sighed and turned to look out into the bright mid-morning sun.

“Thor.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself cry with this one. It's a bit short, but brimming with a lot of Loki/Tom emotions. Again, liberty was taken with the layout of the palace, and certain rooms that I bring up in this chapter. In all, I hope you enjoy it.

"What is my timeline?" Tom heard himself asking, hand tight in Loki's own. The god hadn't taken his eyes off him.

He heard rustling fabric and then Frigga came to stand before him, her long blue gown brushing his shoes.

"Two days."

Loki looked away, mouth tight with anger.

Tom simply smiled, a little sadly, and nodded, tears gathering in his eyes.

Loki's hand was shaking, his grip on Tom's fingers painful. He was forgetting himself, his strength, but Tom hardly cared. The pain grounded him, centered it all in his mind.

"I must speak with Thor," Loki whispered, voice hoarse and rising in volume. "Where is he?" He stood abruptly, his fearsome eyes locked on the other side of the room, where the golden door burst open on its own. "When will my brother return?!" he shouted at the guard standing in the hall.

The man jumped to attention and bowed. "The Crown Prince will return to Asgard at sundown, Your Highness."

Loki scowled and turned away, dismissing the guard as the door slammed shut again.

"Darling," Tom whispered and Loki sank to his knees before him, eyes wide and expectant, ready to obey, ready to kill for him. "That wasn't nice of you."

"Do not bother me with your politeness and your...your _kindness_ right now, Thomas," he said, tears filling his eyes. "I cannot bear it," he sobbed wretchedly. He hugged Tom round the waist, burying his face in his belly, weeping quietly. Tom soothed his back, fingers curling over his neck protectively.

"Oh, my sweet boy," Frigga whispered, sitting beside Tom and caressing Loki's hair. "Thor will return tonight. That still leaves you two full days to retrieve the apples and return before..." She left the rest unsaid, all three knowing exactly what would happen at the end of the second day. "We will install Thomas in the suspension room while you are gone." Loki raised his head, eyes red and wild.

"Suspension room?" Tom asked quietly.

Loki answered. "It's a healing room of sorts. Some wounds require time to heal, often made worse with the usual movements of the body. Some of our more gravely wounded warriors are placed in the suspension room, to sleep. Submerged in a gelatinous fluid, they are allowed to heal fully without interruption."

Frigga nodded. "All of the body's functions are suspended, allowing one to sleep uninterrupted, for as long as is necessary. Never having been used to prevent death, exactly, considering our life spans and tolerance for pain and trauma compared to that of a Midgardian, it can perhaps buy you some time, hours, perhaps even a full day, until Loki has returned." She sighed. "Although it would be unwise to wait for much longer than the two days we have been allotted."

"So, it slows everything down? Blood flow, brain function, heart rate?"

Frigga nodded. "Exactly that. You would be in the deepest of slumbers."

Tom was suddenly reminded of the feigned sleep of Juliet, cursed in her efforts to preserve hers and Romeo's love, the falsified information received by her paramour damning them both.

Loki reached a hand up, cupping Tom's cheek. "My Thomas. After I have spoken with my brother, we will take you there and you will rest until I come for you. It will be a dreamless sleep. But the blink of an eye for you, until you awaken."

Tom leaned into his touch. "I would do anything for you, Loki. You are my god."

Loki's face crumpled and fresh tears fell from his eyes.

And in his expression Tom gauged the sheer hopelessness Loki was feeling, grasping at near impossibilities to save him, when Tom, in the great vastness of his heart, was only humbly grateful to have had the great honor of knowing Loki at all.

**

They retired to Loki's chambers, where Loki immediately took up a position on his balcony, observing the sun's progress across the sky.

Tom headed to the bed, relaxing back against the pillows, his mind heavy with the knowledge that somewhere inside his head, there was a tiny nub with the potential to end his life.

All the effort he made to stay healthy, to stay active, to keep his body strong and his mind sharp with study and a general love for history and literature. It would all be ended by a small burst of blood. _Could_ , he reminded himself, _maybe._ Looking over at Loki standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, angry brows low over narrowed green eyes, Tom fell into a troubled sleep knowing Loki would rend the earth in two to save him.

**

Loki attuned his senses to Tom, his spell for sleep slow emanating from his person to where Tom lay on his bed. Once his breathing had slowed enough, Loki turned and watched his mortal sleep.

It was better this way. Tom would worry ceaselessly, his brilliant mind analyzing from every angle, intent on a solution, one he would never find. Loki would rather Tom was spared all that.

This was Loki's mission, his alone. This would be the moment that defined his entire existence. The moment he paid for all his transgressions. He refused to give up Tom's life as recompense for his shortcomings.

He turned back to the city, urging the sun to move faster, urging his brother to arrive sooner.

**

Afternoon crept into evening and Loki grew tired of keeping watch over the Bifrost, which showed no signs of activity.

He sat on the bed and leaned over Tom's prone form, adoring the small furrow on his brow, worried even in sleep. He kissed his temple, smoothing the tip of his nose over the soft blond hairs growing there.

Tom stirred.

"My love. My dearest heart, wake to me," he said, echoing a similar sentiment Tom had whispered in his ear when Loki had still been plagued by nightmares.

Moaning softly, Tom blinked his eyes open, bleary with sleep. But then they focused on Loki, and he smiled.

Loki's heart burst from the grief of it, the sheer joy and despair of it. He wouldn't lose this man. He couldn't lose him.

"Play," he said hoarsely.

"Okay," Tom whispered, his fingers rising to trace his dark brow.

Taking a deep breath, Loki hung his head, resting it on the crest of Tom's chest. Finally meeting his eyes, Loki started, reciting the words he'd read countless moons ago when he and Tom were still without this fear, when he never would have realized they would reflect this enormous emotion buried in his very bones:

_"'I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried...I have looked for your face in the patterns of the ice. In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.'"_

Tom's tears were sudden, rolling thickly down his lovely face. He inhaled sharply, voice choking on emotion. "I do not know who said those words," he said, eyes widening in panic, as if his mental decline had already begun.

"It does not matter who said them," Loki said, wiping those tears with the pads of his thumbs, although he distinctly remembered the woman's name. "I have taken them for my own. For they speak of what's within this terrible beating thing," he said, touching his hand to his chest. Tom's hand folded over his, a sob escaping his throat.

"Loki," he breathed and Loki collapsed down onto him, their hug tight and violent and weighed down with their distress.

Loki pulled back, taking Tom's face in his hands, and brought their lips together sweetly.

But then he broke away quickly, gaze snapping to the balcony, where gossamer curtains did nothing to hide the burst of rainbow lights that had started dancing along the western sky.

Looking back at Tom, he smiled and kissed him again. "He's here," he breathed.

**

Bidding Tom to remain in his rooms, unless it was absolutely necessary for him to leave, such as a fire or unbearable pain, and not just for simple curiosity, Loki sealed his chamber with his best magic. It would allow Tom to leave if he needed to, but would let no one but Loki enter.

Waiting until he was positive Thor would be in his rooms, Loki stalked down the hallways, almost daring the Allfather to appear before him, but alas, he did not. Only his echoed footsteps accompanied him down the various corridors, an image of Tom's aggrieved face fresh in his mind, intent on doing anything necessary to make sure he never felt such sorrow again.

It wasn't long before Loki found himself standing in front of Thor's rooms. Rather than knocking, he hesitated just a moment before opening the door wide and stepping in.

Thor was by his bedside, removing his battered armor. He froze upon seeing Loki, his right hand clenching.

But Mjolnir stayed where his brother had left her, heavy and glinting on the table in the corner of the room.

"What is this..." Thor started, eyes narrowed. "One of his tricks?"

"No," Loki whispered, no strength in his voice.

Before his pride or some other inane force stopped him, Loki crossed the room in long strides, keeping his arms wide and unthreatening.

Thor took a hesitant step back, eyes widening when Loki didn't reach for a concealed weapon or flick his wrists to call upon his considerable magic, but simply and humbly folded himself over Thor in an embrace.

Loki felt the shock freeze Thor's body, held tight in caution. It wasn't until Loki turned his head and rubbed his cheek on Thor's shoulder, and the tears started to flow, that Thor softened and lifted his arms to hold his brother.

"I'm sorry, Thor," Loki gasped. "For everything. For hurting you and mother. For leaving you both." He pulled back and looked his brother in the eye, keeping his hands locked over his arms. "It is long overdue. You deserved none of it."

Thor's blue eyes danced over his face, hesitant but listening.

"And I come to you out of the most selfish reason."

"It is Thomas," Thor murmured, his eyes softening.

Loki was suddenly struck by how much Thor must have been changed by Jane's death, that despite all his cunning and wit, Loki was just then realizing that Thor's sudden maturity had so much to do with the sadness he bore at her passing, with the fact that he couldn’t save her because she wouldn't allow it.

How terrible.

And Loki hadn’t seen it, or hadn’t wished to acknowledge it, in all his anger.

He found himself nodding.

"It does not matter the reason for how this came to be," Thor said, gripping Loki's forearms. "It matters that you're here now...and that you mean every word."

Loki's chin raised, the tears trembling in his eyes. "I do."

Thor nodded, that big smile coming over his face. “Then there is nothing to forgive, brother.”

Relief flooded Loki’s body. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Thor straightened, buckling his armor into place again. "Show him to me."

**

Tom lay trembling, staring up at the dark canopy of Loki's bed. His teeth had started chattering several minutes before and his heart was racing. He'd tried taking deep breaths, counting back from one hundred, singing softly to himself, reciting verse from memory, but nothing would calm him. He wasn't afraid of death, not at that moment. He trusted Frigga's assessment that it would happen in two days, but maybe all his anxiety was finally catching up to him.

The door opened and he jumped, eyes swiveling around to see who it was.

"Loki," he whispered.

Loki appeared at his side in an instant, brows drawn in worry. He cradled his face in his hands. "Thomas. What is it? What is the matter?"

Tom shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing, darling." He laughed quietly. "I've never been one to be hypochondriacal, but I do believe I am going into sh-shock."

Thor came round to stand behind Loki, that great big hammer of his clutched in one hand.

"Thomas," he said, smiling kindly down on him, and Tom couldn't for the life of him figure out why anyone would consider him menacing. Then again, he'd never faced Thor in battle. Maybe the story was different then. "Loki has informed me of the recent developments. And of Frigga's visions. He and I will depart tonight for Idunn's orchards. I will fly us there and save us precious time."

Teeth clacking, Tom nodded. "Th-thank you, Th-Thor."

Loki was gazing down at him, fingers caressing the sides of his face.

 _I love you_ , Tom mouthed, and Loki's face split into a wide, tearful smile.

"Let us take him to the suspension room. It will be better for him there," Thor said, walking around the bed and toward the door.

And there was something about the strength in his voice, the command in it that showed Tom the great leader that he was.

Loki placed his hand over Tom's heart. "Calm, my love."

And Tom felt an infusion of energy into his bones that slowed his breath and stilled his shaking limbs and clattering teeth. He lay limply as Loki scooped him up into his arms and carried him from his rooms.

In the corridor, Thor grasped Loki's shoulder and then they were materializing in a room Tom didn't recognize. It was very dark, with six pools lined down in a row. The water was colored a vivid blue, reminding him of Thor's eyes.

A soft light emanated from the mysterious liquid, rising slowly like a vapor toward a ceiling black as pitch, spotted by twinkling lights.

 _Stars,_ Tom thought as Loki set him on the floor at the base of the last pool.

Frigga was standing there, appearing ethereal in the shimmering light. She knelt and smoothed back his hair, running her thumb over his forehead.

“It will be alright, dear one. All it takes is for you to close your eyes and it will all fade, for a short time.” She touched his curls with innate tenderness. Tom touched her wrist softly, thanking her with his eyes, saying goodbye in this small way.

“Aye,” Thor said, his voice bouncing in that cavernous room. “It will be but a moment before we wake you and you grumble at us that we did not let you sleep long enough.”

Tom smiled and Thor nodded at him once before moving to stand beside Frigga.

And then it was just Loki, his terrifying and wondrous angel. For that is always what Tom secretly believed him to be. He hadn’t been far off, he thought, as Loki bent over him, faces hovering close. A celestial being without wings.

“Thomas,” Loki murmured, kissing his nose, each cheek and eyebrow, his chin, lips gliding over his forehead, nuzzling his neck so that Tom was weeping anew by the time their lips brushed once, twice, three times.

“I will save you,” Loki whispered fiercely as Tom sobbed quietly. “I will save you. Hold onto me now, my heart.” Tom lifted his arms and wrapped them around Loki’s shoulders as he was picked up around the waist and lowered into the blue liquid. It was warm and thick, like a gel, and it quickly began to absorb him. He panicked, asphyxiation and claustrophobia very sudden fears to him. “Shh now, Thomas,” Loki said, no doubt seeing the alarm on his face. “You will not be harmed. Let it take you. I will be back shortly, my love, do not be afraid.” Loki was kneeling at the edge of the pool, gripping Tom’s hand tightly as he sank lower and lower. “Remember, ‘ _I will not tolerate a world emptied of you_.’ Do not forget that, please,” he said, scuffling along the edge of the pool as Tom sank deeper. “I will save you. I will save you. I love you.”

Instinct told him to close his eyes as the liquid crept up the length of his face. And so he did, his last sight of Loki, face broken open in emotion, in love, threatened. And then Loki’s hand slipped from his as the gel swallowed him completely, claiming him for its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line Loki recites to Tom is from the book 'Deathless' by Catherynne M. Valente.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am anticipating one more chapter after this. And maybe an epilogue, if I can't find a way to include in the next chapter what I always imagined I would put in the epilogue. Does that make sense?
> 
> All description of Idunn and her powers is entirely my own and I apologize if it's grossly inaccurate. 
> 
> Thank you to the lovely duskyhuedladysatan for being my beta and fixing my mess <3

Head bowed, Loki remained kneeling by the edge of the pool for a long moment.

“We must go, brother,” Thor said softly from somewhere behind him.

But it was as if Loki couldn’t move, rooted to the spot. His eyes were trained on the figure of Thomas lying unmoving at the bottom of all that liquid, looking so much like a drowned hero from one of those dusty books he liked to read, hand curled upward from where Loki had finally released him. Loki was fighting every violent instinct to jump in after him, pull him to the surface, clench him close, keep him _safe,_ as he had done in his washroom the previous day when Loki was sure that his foolish mortal had...But no.

He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the eerie, shimmery image of his lover, cast in blue, like the ice mountains from the land of his birth. Thomas seemed so far away from him, so remote, as if he'd already passed, was already buried where Loki couldn't hope to follow.

Muted footsteps echoed hollowly, and then Thor’s boots appeared at his side.

"Loki. Let us depart."

Loki nodded and started to rise, trying to convince himself that Thomas was fine for the time being. He was sleeping. And Loki had promised him he would be back in a heartbeat. A heartbeat that could very easily kill him, Loki thought to himself in anger.

"Do not worry, my love," Frigga said, coming to stand at his side. She took his hand and Loki almost sobbed at the comfort of such a simple gesture.

"What if," Loki started, staring down at Thomas. "What if Odin discovers him and he--."

Frigga squeezed his hand. "I will handle Odin. No harm will come to Thomas. No interruption. I give you my word. But," she said, stepping closer, "if it comforts you, you may seal the room after you leave."

Loki nodded and took her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "Thank you."

He and Thor left to prepare for their journey. Frigga gathered what necessities she required to remain in the room with Thomas for two days. Loki dared not waste time imagining what would happen should Odin begin to wonder where everyone had gone. The inevitability of Odin’s outrage struck fear in his heart on Thomas' behalf, fear that would be made useless should he be successful in his quest. He couldn’t fail. He _would not_ fail.

His mother knew the Allfather better than anyone, better than Odin himself at times, and Loki trusted her to do what was best to secure Thomas’ safety until his and Thor’s return. For the time being, that would have to suffice.

In his rooms, his eyes strayed to the bed, where rumpled sheets and a flattened pillow reminded him all too painfully of Thomas' very recent presence there. The panic in his blue eyes made Loki's heart clench. Stifling the roaring emotion welling just beneath his skin, Loki forced himself to focus. He would need his wits about him if he meant to steal a sufficient number of apples with any bit of success. He dressed in his full armor, gold plated and lined with black and green, leather boots that rose to his knees with guards to protect his shins. Loki couldn’t remember the last time he’d needed to wear his armor. Surely before his imprisonment. There was simply no need for it in his life with Thomas on Midgard.

Sheathing daggers and other blades in hidden slots from toe to shoulders, Loki felt better prepared to face whatever it was Idunn had used to fortify her orchards.

Thor was waiting for him in the hallway when he emerged from his rooms. He nodded at Loki, approving.

"You look well, brother. You look ready to spill blood."

"Aye," Loki agreed, heading down the hall. "That I am."

Thor chuckled and touched his shoulder as Loki muttered a spell under his breath. They materialized in front of the suspension room, where Frigga waited for them.

"It is good that you're here," she said, drawing them close. "Your father suspects something. Seal the room with Thomas and I inside and we will be undiscoverable until you return. This room is the last place he'll think to look for me. He'll scour the city before that."

Loki's eyes were locked on the hallway entrance, as if expecting Odin to appear any second. 

"Go now. And be safe, my children," she whispered, cupping their cheeks. "My blessings to you."

They hugged her and she slipped between the doors, eyes on Loki until the last second. He performed his strongest binding spell, a swirling veil of green light flowing from his fingertips and embedding itself into the very stone. It faded after a moment and all was quiet.

And then from somewhere deep in the palace, an echo of a voice boomed up the hallway and they both spun to look.

The Allfather.

No doubt shouting commands to search for Loki, whom he must have already sensed was back in the realm, and to locate Frigga and Thor.

Thor clasped Loki's shoulder. "Brother, we must go. Now."

Loki trembled with barely contained rage and despair.

"Thomas," he gasped, eyes on the doorway that separated him from his mortal.

"No. Loki, no!" Thor spun him. "Father surely suspects something is not as it should be. Perhaps he thinks you're on Asgard, but he won't risk a panic by setting loose his entire guard to find you. This will be a quiet search throughout the palace and its grounds, and then out into the city. With us gone, everything will remain quiet and he will wait us out. But he won't harm Thomas. And there's no reason for you to fear him. You are not a criminal. You have served your time and are free to go wherever you please." He smiled. "Trust mother. She has a few tricks up her sleeve, as I know you do. She taught you well."

Loki nodded, casting one last glance at the doorway into the suspension room. He took Thor's arm and they disappeared from the palace, landing smoothly on the outskirts of the city, where a wild forest was attempting to encroach upon the orderly symmetry of Asgard.

They stared up at the darkened line of trees, two brothers, a bond only recently mended.

"How far can you take us?" Thor asked.

"As far as Idunn's protection spells extend over her land." He turned to Thor. "She will have calibrated them to detect and expel my presence. That will still leave us about a day’s walk from the orchards."

Thor’s expression hardened. "We will need to retrieve the apples in under an hour's time if we mean to return before our two days are finished."

They were quiet. But then Thor clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, his returning smile reminiscent of the happier times of their youth. “Do not worry, brother. If there is one thing I am sure of, it is that Idunn will expect you to attempt a theft on your own. She will not imagine that I am with you. That will be our advantage. Do you have the ability to keep me out of sight?”

Loki resisted the urge to bristle. “Of course I do.” Had Thor believed him bereft of his powers? “Whether or not she can see you, she will sense someone else with me. But perhaps it will confuse her enough to allow my clones and I to handle the job.”

“You are not alone, Loki,” Thor said. “Whatever might have happened, know that you have me as your ally. Always.”

The words settled warmly in the pit of Loki’s stomach and he found himself at a loss for a proper response. He nodded his head gratefully, clasping Thor’s arm in a show of true affection.

Setting off into the dark woods, Thor and Loki were enveloped by the gathering shadows, curling around their forms like a vapor, until they disappeared entirely.

**

Loki remembered a time early in their relationship Thomas didn’t come home when he said he would. If Loki was honest with himself, he’d readily admit that it was because of this event that he placed tracking spells on the mortal, as well as protection charms that warded against injury and other types of abuse and accidents.

That day, six o’clock came and went and Loki was beside himself with worry. He paced the living room, snatching open the curtains, the terrible and raging deluge falling over the city doing nothing to ease his fear; fear that Thomas was lying dead in the middle of the road, a victim of a careless automobile accident, or crumpled into a heap after being snatched into a dark alley, mugged and beaten.

Attempting to use that damnable device Thomas had purchased for him, a _mobile_ , Loki punched in his phone number but growled in anger when it went directly to voicemail. Unable to bear the wait, Loki transported himself to Thomas’ office building. Perhaps he had been kept over with extra work, but Loki knew this wouldn’t be the case. Thomas would have called.

And appearing in his darkened office, the entire building deserted save for some lone soul cleaning somewhere on the bottom floor, Loki’s heart fell with the belief that something terrible had happened to his lover.

In the blink of an eye, he was outside in the area Thomas used to park his car during the day, heavy rain soaking into his hair and clothing, making him feel heavy. Next was the bakery Thomas liked to frequent, and then the bookstore he sometimes wandered in to, long fingers skimming the spines of dusty books he breathed on with affection.

Nothing. He was nowhere.

Frantic, Loki sent himself home, appearing in the living room just as Thomas opened the front door, blue eyes wide and startled, taking in the god’s soaked body, the furious look on his face.

“Loki?”

“Where… _were you_?” Loki did try to calm his voice, but the growl just beneath the surface made Thomas pale regardless.

“I—I stayed a bit late, finishing a case. But the power went out in the building and we all left in a hurry. And then my mobile died. It’s raining so hard, I took a different route home. Are…are you alright?”

Loki was battling immense rage and crippling relief, taking cautious steps in Thomas’ direction, not wanting to frighten him more than he already was.

“You are alright? You are unhurt?”

Tom dropped his briefcase onto the table and unwound the scarf from his neck. “Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Darling…were you…were you worried?”

Loki swallowed, realizing his desperate appearance.

 _Yes,_ he remembered saying. _Yes, I worried for you._

“Loki?”

He blinked, the memory of that long ago day fading away.

Thor came to stand before him, eyes narrowed from the glare of the sun. “Is this as far as you can go?” He gestured to the far off fields, barren and cracked, billows of dust rising with the passing winds.

“Yes,” he whispered, shaking the image of Thomas from the forefront of his mind. “Yes, there’s a resistance to my magic. Like a short-circuiting of sorts.”

"Why are these fields barren?"

Squinting, Loki observed the dry land. "Idunn rotates the fields every harvest. To preserve the bounty of the soil. She must be on the northern front this season."

“Very well,” Thor said, hand tightening around Mjolnir's handle. "Take hold. I will fly us closer."

As much as Loki wished to avoid such close proximity to Thor, especially so soon after their cautious reconciliation, Loki knew Thor's power of flight centered on the hammer in his grip, and if they meant to acquire the apples with enough time to save Thomas, flight was their only option.

Loki could feel the undercurrent of his magic roiling just beneath his skin, electric and warped. His fingertips sparked. It ached to burst forth, but Idunn's protection spells were designed specifically for him and there was little he could do to dismantle them without calling her attention unnecessarily. 

Stepping close, Loki clasped his brother's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. Thor lifted Mjolnir into the air and they were airborne, streaking through the cloud cover.

They traveled out of sight, spots of fog wetting their faces. 

"Drop us lower!" Loki shouted after a while. Thor adjusted Mjolnir's aim and they descended below the cloud bank, mist clinging to their hair and clothing. But there, far to the right, lay a great circle of luscious trees, organized in smaller concentric spheres, growing tighter the closer they got to the middle. Thor dropped them, landing swiftly in a crag of earth deep enough for the two of them to stand in, peeking out.

They surveyed the area.

"It is so quiet," Thor whispered. "So still."

"Unnatural," Loki agreed, eyes sharpened for any movement. Beneath his fingers, two fat earthworms struggled to burrow into the soil and he flung them away in disgust. “She knows.”

Far off he caught sight of tiny bobbing lights, like tiny fireflies at this distance. _The apples,_ he thought, fear and hope tightening like a vise around his heart. "It would be best if I approach alone. As you said, she might not suspect you are with me. Rather than spend energy concealing you, stay here. If things go astray, well,” he said, looking pointedly at Thor. “Retrieve me."

Thor smiled and took his arm. “I will.”

It was with a heavy heart that Loki leapt from their hiding spot to the even earth and followed a crooked path of shrubbery. The very air crackled with recognition, crawling along Loki’s form, stunting his courage, riddling his mind with doubt.

The closer he got to the orchard, the harder it was to move fluidly. Summoning whatever magic remained to him, Loki called forth one of his clones, which appeared beside him and immediately darted in the opposite direction.

And then he heard her.

“Did you think I could not sense you, Trickster?”

It was deep and sonorous, her voice, lilting and teasing. Knowing.

He cursed, searching every which way for the fearsome witch, but her voice came from everywhere, seeping up from the earth, curling around him.

“It is I. Loki, of Asgard! I beg a favor!” he shouted, thinking, in one of the rare moments of his long life, that he would try for honesty first.

A soft laughter echoed hollowly through the trees, setting chills erupting over his body.

“Please!” Loki spun and a flock of birds went squawking into the darkening sky.

“What a joy this is,” he heard. "The second son of Asgard, come to me for a _favor."_

Loki felt for all the world the desperate need to weep. In another time, as another person entirely, Loki would have enjoyed this game, drawn it out, intent to savor the savage pleasure of besting the goddess. But he had no time for that now. And his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

All was quiet, the silence stretching and settling tensely. He took the chance and slunk low to the ground, creeping closer to the glowing trees. What sport this had been for him the first time. But an image of Thomas flashed in his mind and he faltered, his chest tight.

“Ah,” said the voice, and he heard in that one word a sort of triumph. “You come here for love.”

He vanished all thoughts of Thomas, protective of the mortal. He had let his guard down, foolishly, and she had seen what he desired to keep the most hidden. His panic was making him vulnerable. Shielding his mind, he gritted his teeth, furious with himself.

“Handsome,” she mused. “So like you, in a way.”

“Enough of this,” he hissed. “Will you grant my request or not, goddess?”

A great force blasted him from behind and he flew through the air, landing hard on his side, the rough earth scraping the length of his face. Before he could spring to his feet, giant muddied roots burst from the ground and wrapped around his arms and legs, immobilizing him.

And then she was on him, straddling his waist, long-nailed fingers clawing at his jaw, forcing him to look into her purple eyes.

“Not,” she whispered, bending close.

Idunn was a sight to see. All height and long limbs, fiery red hair tumbling down her back in curls that reminded him of his mother’s. Her gown was earth-toned and rough, spun tightly but coarse.

 _Just like her_ , Loki thought, rage in his heart, jerking his head away. But she kept a tight grip on his face, smiling down at him sweetly. The tip of her nails broke through his skin and he bit back a groan of pain.

“I may have forgiven you taking me, Second Son. The giants were not exactly terrible hosts. But you took my apples and you lost them all, fiend. Returning here to the lesser half of my harvest, the bruised and forgotten ones, it took me _seasons_ to restore them to their previous glory, and now you desire to take them again?” Her fingers squeezed tighter with every hissed word. Fury blazed in her eyes but he stared her down.

“One,” Loki ground out. “Only one. It isn’t for me…if it’s any…consolation.”

“Oh, very much,” she breathed. “But it is for one you love, perhaps even more than yourself. Surprisingly. And that simply won’t do. Why should you have solace when I was gifted with only desolation and pain, Silvertongue?”

Loki struggled, the sharp points of the roots restraining him, cutting through his clothing and into his skin. Seeing that feral smile on her face, the mocking eyes, Loki felt a rage building up in his veins. The first day was drawing to a close. They still had to make the return journey, and their time was growing short.

Thomas was dying. 

The wrath that had been mounting within him hardened and he felt a strange weightlessness in that fury, a relief. “You will release me, _wench_. And I will have one of those bloody apples and leave this forsaken land and you will have no need to see me ever again.”

She tossed her head back and laughed, the milky line of her throat bobbing with mirth. “You are a blessing to me this day. I do get so lonely,” she whispered, trailing her hand down his chest.

They heard the snap of a twig and she tensed. She roared in pain and more birds broke into startled flight. A spear point jutted out from her shoulder, gleaming, slick with her blood. Loki’s clone stood defiantly behind her, grabbing her hair and yanking her backwards.

Loki released a wave of green fire and the knobby roots restraining him shrieked in pain before collapsing into piles of dust.

He scrambled up just as his clone faded away, leaving the goddess gasping for air, staring in wonder at the bloody wound in her shoulder. His powers waned as her fury grew, grimacing when she turned heated eyes in his direction. _Miserable witch._ She would not keep him from saving Thomas.

Idunn screamed and launched herself at him, a blur of bared teeth and sharp nails, landing a heavy blow to his temple. He blinked fast, his vision refocusing, and countered her attack, unsheathing a blade hidden in his cloak and slicing her across her breast. Pulling fast, he twisted her arm and kicked her legs out from under her, jamming her onto her back.

But before he could cut her throat, she clawed the side of his face, drawing blood. Removing her own blade from somewhere in her sleeve, she stabbed him in the ribs.

He cried out and fell to the side, the orchard spinning, her form seeming to multiply in his eyes. The trees began to creep in, as if uprooted and walking freely on the earth. He heaved a breath, wincing as his ribs splintered with the movement.

Her blade.

He pulled it from his flesh and tossed it away, foul and poisoned.

Rising to his knees, he hung his head and tried to grasp his bearings, still breathing hard. The wounds throbbed with every breath. The apples were so close, bobbing on their branches with the passing breezes. But even if he managed to snatch one, he couldn’t disappear from that place with just a whispered spell. His magic was limited here.

Just as his thoughts turned to his brother, Thor landed in the clearing, red cape billowing behind him. Clouds of dust rose from his beneath his boots. 

“Goddess of the harvest!” he boomed and Idunn turned to him, eyes tight with suspicion.

“The mighty Thunderer! Whose rains nurture my children!” she cried, hands raised in what seemed like praise. For here was the hero that would come to her aid in banishing the Trickster from her lands. Hiding his smirk, Loki rose to his feet and started inching his way to the nearest tree, whose branches had begun to sway, as if sensing the theft. “This _thief_ ,” she proclaimed, pointing a long finger at Loki. “Your brother! Intends to steal my bounty. Take him from my sight.”

“Aye,” Thor said, taking confident steps toward her. “Supply me with a sack of your apples, Idunn, and I will remove him from here.”

She took a step back, hand rising to her throat, confusion clouding her features. “Never have the apples been requested as payment for a service that should be provided freely.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“My rains are provided freely enough, Idunn. Every harvest. Every season. You do not lack for rain. I ask for only a satchel.”

But there was something about his easy manner that she distrusted, even if it was expected from the Crown Prince of Asgard, known for his booming laugh and ready hand, a prince of the people, comfortable in his charm.

She sneered and turned to Loki, throwing her arm up, hand clenched tight. Lifted in the air, he felt a viselike grip around his throat and clawed at the invisible force, his toes skimming the ground. His wound throbbed anew as more blood pulsed out with every hitched breath.

“Release him!” Thor shouted, lifting his hammer. Thunder sounded in the distance.

“You are in alliance with him, Thunderer! My apples are not for the taking. I am--.”

She screamed, a knife protruding from the meat of her thigh. Loki was dropped to the ground, already reaching for another blade as he heaved in a deep breath.

“You vile, despicable--.”

Lightning struck the ground at her feet and she fell back with a screech.

“Cease this, Idunn!” Thor shouted, coming to stand before her. “Or the next will strike the center of this orchard, setting it aflame.”

She blanched. Blood ran down her thigh and bodice, soaking through her homespun dress.

Thor raised his hammer and pointed it at her face. “You will not win, dear goddess. What my brother needs, so I need. And in exchange for your life and the health of your gardens and orchards, we will leave with only a few of your apples. And put this all behind us.”

As Thor spoke, Idunn’s face fell slightly, as if realizing her fight with the two gods would be a lost cause. Loki took the opportunity to summon the last clone in him, directing him toward the nearest tree, where it immediately began to pluck apples and place them gently into a satchel.

“Do not deny me rain, Thunderer,” Idunn whispered, tears rising in her eyes.

Thor remained quiet, tracking the clone's progress, who cinched the satchel closed and returned to Loki, handing it to him without a word. Loki swayed on his feet and the clone disappeared.

“I will not,” Thor said, eyeing his brother. “This harvest will be gifted with more rain than ever before. You have our gratitude, goddess.” He raised his hammer. “Now leave.”

She rose to her feet unsteadily, long hair tangled with briars and leaves. Casting one last hateful look in Loki’s direction, she walked into her forest, trailing her hand over bark and leaf and apple alike, before disappearing between the trees, a bloody apparition.

Loki finally collapsed, crashing hard on his knees. But the satchel remained clenched tight in his fist.

Thor hurried to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and taking to the air.

Loki’s head swam and his heart raced. Whatever was on that blade was burning him from within.

“Stay with me,” Thor shouted and Loki winced, for his senses were high and Thor’s voice was simply too much.

They began descending after only a few minutes and Loki panicked. “What are you doing?”

Thor landed on a craggy hill and set his brother on the ground gently. Loki tried to sit up but Thor kept a hand on his chest.

“You need to eat one. The apple will cure you of--.”

“I know of the apple’s qualities as a panacea, Thor! But we are wasting time! I must get back to Thomas. He needs this more than--.”

“You will be of no use to him dead, brother,” Thor said in that infuriatingly kind way of his.

Loki growled and pushed Thor’s hand away. “Take me to him. Now. I refuse to have one before him!”

Thor scowled and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘damn fool’.

He grabbed the apples and took Loki round the waist again, flying at full speed. Loki closed his eyes tight and hid his face in Thor’s shoulder, the roaring wind and flying landscape enough to almost make him ill.

He must have lost consciousness because when he opened his eyes again, the skies were dark and Thor was still flying. Loki stiffened. The second day was almost at its end. “How much farther!”

“Nearly there!”

Loki cursed. They didn’t have time for this. The next second he and Thor appeared in the palace, flying through the hallway outside the suspension room. They crashed into the wall, a pile of beaten limbs and bloody leather.

“A warning next time, Loki!” Thor said, irate. He rose to his feet, the bag of apples clutched to his chest. Loki groaned, rolling to his side, his body shaking. That last bit of magic exhausted him, but he wasn’t finished. He was so close. Pushing himself up, he staggered to the golden doors and whispered the words that would unseal them.

“Give me one,” he said, his whisper loud in the deserted hallway. Thor passed him an apple and he pushed his way into the room.

“Drain it!” Loki cried, voice ragged, blood dripping down one side of his face.

Frigga jumped to her feet, one hand rising to her chest, the other to the dagger concealed at her breast, alarmed at his and Thor’s sudden and gory appearance. Steadying herself, she hurried to the side levers and pulled the one that would empty Thomas’ pool.

Immediately the level of fluid began to lower.

Loki paced like a wild animal, his two battered hands cradling the precious apple for which he had fought so violently. Too feverish to remember his own experience consuming one of the golden apples, so many ages ago, he was distractedly surprised at the small vibrations he felt rising from its core, as if the apple anticipated its purpose to save Thomas.

He struggled to slow his rapid heartbeat, spurred on not only by the poison lacing his blood but also by his raging fear.

Slowly, Thomas’ body began to emerge, the tips of his shoes, his chest, his face. That perfect nose. Loki almost whimpered from want. 

About to jump into the empty pool, Thor took his arm suddenly.

“Wait.”

From above, a shower of clear water fell, gentle as rain. Any residual blue clumps of gel were washed away from Thomas’ skin and clothing, leaving him soaked but clean. 

“He will be weak,” Thor called as Loki slipped into the basin, sliding along the slick surface, finally crouching over Thomas’ form. “His body needs time to recover the functions that were suspended. Give him a moment.”

“He doesn’t have a moment,” Loki whispered fiercely, pushing back the sopping curls, cut so much shorter than when Loki had first known him.

He pressed his hand down on his neck, fingertips searching along his pulse points, begging for a heartbeat.

Loki’s world began to shrink horribly, willing his fingers to remain still, to give it just another moment, he had to be _alive_ _._ Surely it can't have already happened? _  
_

“Thomas,” he whispered. “Thomas, please.”

And then, like a nudge against his finger...a thump.

“Oh, my cruel darling,” Loki whispered through his smile, tears distorting his sight.

Twice more. Thud _. Thud._ Very slow beats, but they were there.

“Thomas. Please. Awaken.”

No response. Just shallow breaths. His color was wrong. He was too pale.

“He is still too far under,” Loki said, looking up at Thor, who stood at the edge of the pool with Frigga. The apples were gone. Hidden somewhere. Kept safe. Save for one. Frigga had another apple in her hands and Loki knew in his frantic mind that she had set that one apart for him.

“Lift him up to me,” Thor said, extending his hands.

Handing the second apple to his mother, Loki gripped Thomas under his shoulders and knees, cradling him in his arms. He hurried to the edge and lifted him to where Thor waited, crouched.

“Do not drop him,” Loki said tensely and Thor glared at him.

He watched as Thor rose slowly with Thomas in his arms before he hurriedly, painfully, scaled the slippery wall and pulled himself from the pool, his usual grace forgotten as he rushed to where Thor stood, his mortal limp and nearly lifeless in those arms.

“He can’t eat it if he’s unconscious,” Loki said, trembling hand on the crown of Thomas’ curls.

Frigga touched the mortal’s forehead, brow wrinkled in concern. “He needs warmth. To quicken the circulation of blood. I can sense him inside. He is struggling to awaken.”

As if hearing her, Thomas let out a weak moan and Loki’s heart nearly burst from his chest.

Appearing decided, Frigga turned on her heel and spoke to someone in the hallway, her tone too low to make out what she was saying. Returning to them, she said, “A fire is being prepared in your rooms, Loki. Take Thomas there. Thor, accompany your brother and make sure they are undisturbed. And then return here. We must speak to your father. He will be worried that we haven’t shown our faces in two days.”

They both stared at her and she raised her brows. “Well?”

“Yes, mother,” he and Thor said simultaneously.

Before leaving, Frigga took Loki’s arm and held something to him. The two apples.

“For Thomas,” she said, a small smile on her face. “And for you.”

**

His room was warmer than usual when he and Thor walked in. A fire crackled in the hearth. Loki limped to the bed, immensely glad Thor was there to carry Thomas because he would not have been able to otherwise.

“Put him down here,” he whispered, hand on his side. Blood trickled between his fingers. Grimacing, he began removing his armor, eyes on Thomas’ still form. Thor placed him on the bed gently, moving to unbutton his shirt.

“Don’t,” Loki said, coming round the bed. “I’ll do it.”

“He’ll catch a chill. His clothes are soaked.”

Indeed, Thomas was shivering, the delicate skin around his eyes and lips tinted blue.

“Here,” Loki said, passing the apples to Thor. “Cut those for me.”

As Thor crossed to the table before the hearth, blade and apples in hand, Loki sat at Thomas’ side, touching his face. Unbuttoning his shirt, Loki removed his clothing one piece at a time.

“I’ll leave you now,” Thor said softly, setting a small plate with the apple slices on the bed next to them.

“Thank you,” Loki whispered, clasping his arm at the last moment. “Thank you for helping me.”

Thor smiled and shrugged. “For you, anything.”

The door closed with a soft click once he was gone and Loki turned back to Thomas, skin still cold.

“How do I warm you?” Loki asked, caressing his brow, breath hitched with fear. “I, who am made of ice. How do I bring you back to me?”

Leaning down, he kissed Thomas’ lips, his brow and cheeks, just as he’d done before lowering him into the pool of gel. “Come now, my love. Come back to me.” His hands roamed over pale torso and chest, down along his hips, dragging down the last article of clothing, his boxers. Once they were both nude, Loki stretched out alongside Thomas, kissing his neck, breathing on his skin, murmuring to him. Tears splashed into blond curls as Loki dragged Thomas closer, wrapping him in his arms, running his hands over his back.

 _Please_ , Loki begged. _Don_ _’_ _t leave me._

**

Falling immediately into slumber was something Tom had always been able to do since childhood. His sleep was usually untroubled and easy. But deep. He would lose himself in the most peaceful darkness, sleeping through the cacophony of shouts in the street, car horns, or planes landing and taking off. London was a noisy place. But he didn’t mind it.

This sleep was different. He could only liken it to being put under anesthesia for a surgery, as he had been when he was nineteen and needed his appendix removed. One second he was counting backwards, and the next he was waking up to a bright room, a gentle-eyed nurse telling him everything went perfectly alright.

It was distinctly warm where he was now, but his skin, the inside of his body, felt terribly cold. His teeth chattered and he trembled, trying to open his eyes. Hands smoothed over his back, and lips kissed his neck and it was immediate, how he simply knew.

“Loki,” he croaked.

There was a broken sob and arms tightened around him.

“I’m here. Darling, it’s me. I’m here.”

He squirmed closer, cracking his eyes open. Black hair grazed his face and beyond a dim room with heat from a fire. Green eyes blinked down at him and Tom smiled. But it fell quickly from his face.

“You’re hurt,” he whispered, no strength in his voice. There were long scratches on Loki’s neck and a ragged scrape on one side of his face. A dark bruise bloomed on his temple. Tom gasped when he caught sight of the wound on Loki’s left side, trickling dark blood.

“It’s nothing,” Loki insisted, drawing his gaze back up to him. “You must eat these, my darling,” he said, reaching somewhere behind Tom. A slice of apple was pressed to his lips and he opened them obediently, taking a bite.

His eyes sprang open. He nearly seized from the ecstasy of it, the juices like a river of pure gold, sparking in his mouth, buzzing through his senses. Swallowing, he groaned and took the rest of the slice between his lips, Loki’s fevered eyes wide with delight, reaching for another piece, ready to slip it between his lips when Tom was ready.

Tom felt weightless as lines of light raced through his veins, the apple’s healing powers purifying his blood stream, fortifying any weaknesses, cementing that tiny spot in his brain that would— _wouldn_ _’_ _t_ —kill him.                                    

He moaned as Loki fed him another piece, gripping his wrist, holding his hand to his mouth. Chewing, eyes on Loki’s, Tom swallowed and took Loki’s index finger between his lips, sucking hard on it. Loki hissed and pressed his hips onto Tom, both hardening with arousal.

Tom took bite after bite of the crisp apple, the crunches muted against the moans he gave as Loki kissed his chest, his neck, their mouths crashing together, juice spilling and licked up again, sticky on his skin.

There was a lightness in his bones, a great sweeping energy flowing from his center outward, filling every capillary and sinew and bone, mending and strengthening, prolonging with life.

Loki fed him more slices of apple, inching closer, grip tight. “More, my darling. More.”

But Loki’s color was fading with every minute, despite his obvious arousal and joy at Tom’s rapid change in health. There was a sickly pallor to his skin, his strength sapped. Reaching behind himself, Tom found the plate of apples and took a piece.

“Open, my love,” he murmured. Loki bit into the fruit and his eyes fluttered closed, body shuddering above Tom. He whimpered, and Tom watched with amazement as the bruise on his temple faded. The more Loki ate, the less blood flowed from the wound on his side, closing up neatly. The scratches shrank, leaving only pure ivory skin. Two spots of color rose on his cheeks and Loki looked up at him, eyes bright with renewed energy and desire. Sweet devotion.

Tom’s mouth went dry and he braced himself.

Moving his long body over Tom, Loki spread his legs and prepared him with magic, long fingers slipping in and aiding in the stretch. They both groaned when he pushed in moments later, finally, deliciously his once again.

Tom gasped, arching, hands on Loki’s buttocks, drawing him closer.

“Fast. Fuck me fast, darling. Do it.”

Growling, Loki pinned Tom’s hands over his head and rammed in hard, setting a quick pace, hips snapping forward. Their skin slapped together loudly, but their moans were soft and tender. They never broke their kiss, tongues dancing, the juice from the apple still lingering, filling Tom’s senses with sweetness. Loki angled his hips to hit his prostate, sighing in pleasure at how Tom choked out a groan. Like so many times before in their relationship, Tom felt a warmth on his cock, usually indicative of when Loki would put a magic ring on him. But this time, instead of tightening at the base, the warmth slid up and down his length.

“Oh god. Loki, I won’t last like this.”

The apple’s magic coursed through his system, making all the colors brighter and glowing. Loki’s eyes on him were like the sun. Every drag and pull, every brush of skin, every kiss brought them closer. Tears sprang to Tom’s eyes and he wept quietly, overwhelmed with the rolling emotion in his chest.

“I want you to come, my love,” Loki whispered. “I want to see the light flare in your eyes, the blush rising along your skin. Please.” He growled and thrust into him faster, taking Tom’s jaw, and then lower, long fingers wrapping around his neck. “I want to feel you clench around me.”

Tom whined and lost himself in Loki’s onslaught. With a hoarse sob, he came undone beneath him, his seed bursting out of his straining cock, arcing high and spilling on the sheets.

Loki smiled and let his head fall back, pumping hard until his hips stuttered to a stop. The veins in his neck rose when he climaxed, a groan spilling from deep in his throat. Loki’s pleasure must have been great indeed, because he continued to pulse in Tom for long moments, his body giving small tremors, filling him to the brim so that his come spilled out of Tom, sliding warmly between his buttocks.

They stared at each other, breathing hard.

“We missed the poetry reading you wanted to attend,” Loki said suddenly and Tom was stunned into silence. He started laughing, tossing his head back, rubbing his eyes with one hand. 

“Forget that,” Tom said once he’d quieted. He wrapped his hands around Loki’s forearms. “I am ok now? Am I safe?”

Hesitating, Loki eased his body down, smiling wide once he realized Tom could take more of his weight than before. “Yes, my love. You are mine now.” He kissed him, slow. “Eternally.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am apologize for the wait. I had a bit of a set back last week when my draft disappeared (because of my giant stupidity) and I cried for like 9 hours. But I put my writing cap back on and got to work again. 
> 
> So here it is. The last chapter. I'm so sad. If my sadness was a planet, it would be jupiter. *cries*  
> Thank you for reading! Thank you for your patience and support. I can't tell you how much it's meant to me <3
> 
> Thank you to my beta, duskyhuedladysatan, for helping me through some trying moments, and laughing with me through the rest. 
> 
> I love you all. Tom and Loki do, too.

Mornings on Asgard were quiet. Or so Tom figured, as he lay awake, staring out the balcony into a warm, blue sky clear of all clouds. The curtains fluttered softly, the breeze wafting in and caressing their bodies.

Loki lay in his arms, asleep still. He hadn’t let Tom go all night, lips at his neck, wide hands on his spine holding him close. He slipped into Tom sometime around dawn, rutting slowly until Tom was weeping from frustrated pleasure. They came only moments apart, Loki drawing him in for a kiss, falling asleep almost immediately.

_Five thousand years._

Tom’s stomach knotted in fear, in worry, in excitement. What would he accomplish in so long a time? What would he witness? Peace? Atrocities?

He imagined a little bit of everything. Suffering was something the world would never go without. But neither was joy, or even uncertainty, both of which he felt in abundance.

But it didn’t matter. Not when he wouldn’t face it all alone. He peered down at Loki, breathing deeply on his chest. It was as if a monumental weight had been lifted from the god’s shoulders. His brows weren’t puckered with worry. He hadn’t whispered in archaic languages, or woken in a gasping panic, hand clutching the first part of Tom he could find.

Whether this time free of unease would last, Tom would have to wait and see. But he had a feeling Loki would sleep effortlessly from here on out.

There was a knock on the door and Tom raised his head. Loki shifted but didn’t wake.

Very carefully, Tom pried himself away from him and wrapped himself in the first thing he could find—Loki’s torn and bloodied green cape.

Opening the door, he was surprised to find himself face to face with Loki’s mother.

“Oh!” he gasped, face blooming with color. He wrapped the cape tighter around himself, still highly conscious of his naked legs and shoulders. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t know--.”

“Please,” the queen interrupted, touching his arm. “It is Frigga, Thomas. Are we not past such formalities?” She smiled kindly.

Tom returned her smile, albeit a bit sheepishly. “Frigga,” he said quietly. “You’re right, of course.” He looked behind him, at Loki’s figure stretched languidly under the sheets. “Loki’s still sleeping. Was there anything I can help you with?”

“I came to inquire about the state of health for Loki and yourself, if everything was alright?”

Tom nodded. “Yes. Everything is…well, everything is perfect.” He blushed and she smiled again, her eyes crinkling beautifully. The time appointed for his death had passed. The relief and joy he felt were simply indescribable.

He stepped out and closed the door behind him. Glancing up and down the corridor, he turned to her. “I can’t pinpoint what exactly is different, but I feel this incredible…lightness in my bones. Like I could start running this second and not stop for anything. Not for fatigue or thirst or pain. It is like sparks in my blood. I feel…resurrected. Does that make sense?”

He worried at his lip, feeling like a fool in front of this ancient and glorious being.

But Frigga stepped close and touched his elbow softly. “It makes the clearest sense, Thomas. And in a way, that’s exactly what happened. Your resurrection. Bringing you out from the basin in the suspension room, Loki’s fear was palpable. I’d never seen him so agitated, so unguarded--not in all his long life. His emotions were on display as they never have been before. He truly loves you with his entire being.”

Tom blushed and hugged his chest tighter, eyes on the floor. “I love him, too,” he whispered. “There was no question about accepting the apple. If it meant being with him. Without him, I would have accepted my fate quite easily.”

“As he would have not,” she said seriously, her knowledge of her youngest son more profound than Tom could ever hope to even begin understanding. “Will you break your fast with me, Thomas?”

He stood straighter, his eyes widening. “Yes, of course. Shall I wake Loki?”

“No, please let him rest. He went through something of a plight to procure the apples. Idunn is no easy foe. Her poison and restrictions of his magic will have depleted his strength. The rest will do him immeasurable good.”

Tom nodded, his heart breaking all over again at Loki’s trouble. “I will dress and then meet you?”

“I shall wait here. Please take your time. I will escort you to my rooms, where there will be fruits and cheeses and soft bread warm from the ovens.”

Tom’s stomach growled and he laughed, embarrassed. “I’ll be but a moment.”

He dashed into the room, collecting his scattered clothing from the floor. Wishing he could have showered first, Tom dressed quickly. He eyed Loki’s prone form, back rising and falling, and wondered if he should wake him to at least let him know where he’d gone.

Before he joined Frigga, he found a bit of parchment and ink on Loki’s table. He scribbled a note and left it on the pillow next to Loki’s head, kissing his wrist softly.

He slipped into the corridor and Frigga smiled at him approvingly. She took his arm and they walked down the empty passageways. The palace was very quiet, very still. But he did see guards posted at nearly every entranceway, staring straight ahead, bowing their heads as Frigga passed.

“I truly hope you and Loki will stay long enough to visit the rest of the city. It is quite beautiful.”

Tom truly hoped so too. “It would be a privilege, absolutely. From what I’ve been able to see in passing, it is unlike anything we have on Earth—or rather, Midgard,” he said.

She laughed softly, hugging his arm a little tighter. But then she stiffened, her gaze suddenly distant.

"Are you alright?" Tom asked.

She blinked after a moment and focused her eyes on him. She took his hand gently. "I apologize, Thomas. I was only expecting Thor. But do not let your heart be unsettled. No harm will come to you."

He nodded, a little disconcerted at her cryptic words.

They approached her rooms and the guards opened the doors in unison. The same heat from his previous visits flowed from the room, but it was somewhat lessened, controlled and more tolerable. And then he saw why.

Thor and someone he could only identify as Odin, sat at the table in the middle of the room, mugs placed before them. Thor, having already partaken of the plates of food spread out on the table, stood and smiled at Tom, all warmth and good cheer. Odin looked up as they entered, his one eye trained on Tom from across the room, inscrutable, but penetrating, imposing. Tom swallowed nervously.

This reception was alarming, and he nearly faltered in his steps, but Frigga’s small hand was reassuring in his own.

“Thomas,” Thor said as soon as he was within earshot. Appearing as tall as a giant, Thor bent down and hugged Tom. A few of his joints popped from the force of his embrace, but it was all affection and Tom couldn’t find it in himself to mind in the least.

With Thor and Frigga at his side, Tom turned to Odin, still seated and eyeing him quietly. After a tense moment, Odin spoke.

“You are he, then.”

Unsure, Tom found himself nodding.

“Loki’s entire reason for…everything,” Odin said softly, his hand palming a mighty staff made entirely of gold.

Tom said nothing at that, still unsure if Odin was being serious or not.

“Sit, go on,” Odin said, gesturing with his hand to the seat opposite him. Thor returned to his own seat and Frigga took hers at the other end of the table.

Tom sat stiffly, hands clasped in his lap. A dull ache started up behind his ribcage. He missed Loki terribly in this great palace with these great, and rather terrifying, people. Well, only two of them were terrifying, and Tom was beginning to get over his fear of Thor. Only Odin, then.

A servant appeared and prepared a small portion of cheese and bread and fruits, setting the plate before Tom, along with a goblet of what he figured was wine.

"Thank you," he murmured, smiling up at the young man, who bowed and retreated to his place by the doors.

"How do you fare, Thomas?" Thor said, biting into a pear loudly.

"Quite well, thank you. I was speaking about it to your mother, actually. It's an amazing feeling, whatever the apple did to me."

"How old are you?" Odin interrupted, ignoring his food entirely.

"Thirty-two, sir."

Odin smiled. "Thirty-two. And do you know how old Loki is?"

"Father--," Thor started.

"It is of immeasurable significance that he grasp the meaning of it all. Now that he will join us in our...tricky immortality." Odin paused, eye trained on his eldest son and heir. Tom shifted in his seat, eyes flicking between the three of them. Thor flexed his jaw and placed his devoured pear pit on his plate. Frigga simply stared at Odin, silent.

"Sir," Tom started, licking his lips nervously. "Perhaps you, in all your knowledge and years living, see me as nothing but a child. But I can guarantee that this will do nothing to diminish my love for your son. Or make it any less true. No one can prevent that. Loki is the most magnificent person ever to come into my life. He is of a purity and light I’ve not encountered, nor do I think I ever will again. But then, what do I know? As you say, I'm only thirty two years old."

Odin’s expression didn’t change, but Tom felt better at having spoken. Thor and Frigga’s wide smiles helped too.

“Loki was greatly troubled when he came to you. Was he not?”

Tom frowned, resisting the urge to bristle. It wouldn’t be accurate to say that Loki was troubled when Tom met him. It was something that was revealed to him very slowly, over a period of time. But he wasn’t about to tell Odin that. “I’m sorry, but is this some sort of inquisition? I was under the impression I would be eating breakfast with the queen.”

“And you will, my darling,” Frigga said. "Odin felt it was the right time to meet Loki's partner. And to ask about his time on Midgard. Whether you knew anything about what Loki experienced...from before." She cast Odin a look pointed enough that Tom realized there was no way she was in agreement with his impromptu line of questioning.

Tom turned to Thor, who had his eyes cast on the far wall.

"You believe I would give you information which Loki himself chose not to disclose." Tom looked Odin straight in his watery eye. "I will not."

"Thomas is right, father," Thor said, looking at Odin, who sat perfectly still. "Loki would not tell me what happened. If he told his mortal, then such was his choice, and Thomas is under no obligation to--."

"He is under _every_ obligation!"

The room went deathly quiet as Odin's shout reverberated off the stone walls. The embers crackled loudly on the hearth and the room was suddenly too warm, too close.

"Your mother saved his mortal’s life," Odin continued after a moment. "It was from our lands that one of the golden apples was provided to him in his hour of certain death.”

"Loki saved his life, my love" Frigga said quietly. "With Thor's aid, he brought the apples back from Idunn’s orchard, and it was he who provided one to Thomas. I did nothing. And nothing should be expected of Thomas." She turned to him, a kind, proud smile on her face, half apologetic on her husband's behalf. "You are a guest here, a guest of the royal family. And we are greatly pleased to meet the person for whom Loki has chosen to open his heart. Nothing shall be expected of you. Please know that you are given permission to roam wherever on Asgard you desire to visit, to stay for as long as you wish." There was a small amount of longing in her voice. For wherever Tom went, Loki was sure to follow, and any time spent on Asgard by her second son was precious to the queen.

"Thank you, Frigga," Tom said, returning her smile. "I wouldn't be averse to a tour of the palace and grounds. Even the city. If I might be accompanied by Loki and Thor, of course."

"There is no question, Thomas! Of course we will."

"Will what?" came the icy drawl from across the room.

They all turned to the door, where Loki stood, eyes narrowed in barely concealed anger.

**

The light felt wrong when Loki woke. It was later than he usually slept, and the bed was cold when he reached his arm out to the other side. Thomas wasn't there.

He lifted his head, blinking to clear his vision. "Love?"

The room was empty. He sat up, the sheets bunching at his waist, and caught sight of the note. _Frigga invited me to breakfast. Didn't want to wake you, my love. I will be with her. Love you. ~T_

Loki cursed, tossing the sheets aside and dressing with a whispered spell. Appearing just within Frigga's doors, Loki felt a wave of fury at the scene before him. Thomas, sitting with his mother and Thor would have been fine indeed. But Odin, in all his imperial superiority, was seated across from Thomas, staring at him as if he were some kind of prisoner before the throne. Staring at him as he had once stared at Loki, long ago.

He seemed to have caught them in the middle of conversation.

"There is no question, Thomas! Of course we will."

"Will what?"

They turned surprised gazes at him, but Thomas' face revealed simple love. And relief.

"Darling," he whispered, turning in his seat. 

Loki crossed towards them in slow, measured steps, until he stood at Thomas' side. He took his hand and cupped his chin with the other.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, eyes roving over his form.

The alarm on Thomas’ face was enough to hint at the anger Loki was projecting, and this only fueled his ire. In addition to the caution and concern he Thomas usually looped each other, there was a fragility over their recent salvation, something hidden just behind Thomas’ lashes, a hope to celebrate. All this threatened, squashed, by the eons of family strife brought to a head over this simple breakfast.

"Yes, we were just...chatting."

Loki knew Thomas didn't mean to lie. He was averse to the habit taken up quite easily by others, by Loki himself. But Thomas was being polite as ever, clearly nervous in the Allfather’s presence.

Loki’s gaze drifted to his mother. “What is the meaning of this?”

It was Odin who answered. “If you insist on remaining secretive and ambiguous about what took place after your fall from the Bifrost, then _I_ insist on speaking to your cohort.”

Loki’s face paled in his rage. “He is not my cohort, he is my lover, my chosen partner. And I have made it abundantly clear that nothing of my recent past will be revealed to you,  neither by myself, nor anyone I have deigned worthy of the knowledge.” He looked at his mother. “Perhaps in time, I may feel differently about telling Frigga, or even Thor. But not you, Odin. And you know why. Everyone save Thomas knows why.”

Thomas appeared ready to interrupt. Loki squeezed his hand gently and Thomas closed his mouth, quiet.

Odin looked upon Loki, his small beady eye impenetrable. “Would you ever…reconsider?”

Odin’s voice was soft, the smallest measure of… _caring_  seeping through. Impossible.

It startled Loki, threw him off center. As a supreme ruler, Odin was not without his own tools of manipulation, but there was something sincere in his question, something that felt a lot like honestly. He retreated a small step, and Thomas rose beside him, arm wrapping around Loki’s waist.

“Brother,” Thor said quietly, elbows resting on the table, fingers steepled before his face. “Please…you can tell us. There will be no judgment.”

Mind racing, Loki tried to quell his uncertainty, but the rage and disappointment he’d felt over a lifetime came roared through his mind. After ages of having been fed only deceit and manipulation by the man he’d once been proud to call Father, he now expected Loki to trust him? With his secrets, his pain and plans for domination, thwarted, left with only his suffering at their failure, _his_ failure? He remembered as a child, ages and ages ago, walking hand in hand with Odin down the Rainbow Bridge, listening rapt as Odin explained the constellations and the telltale signs of spring and fall, why the water fell off the edge of the world. Loki remembered being so willing, so eager, to learn it all from him, to cling to that warm hand and run along beside him. All before he began to see the stark differences between himself and Thor, the way Odin’s affection varied between the two young brothers, throwing their abilities, or lack of them, into startling relief. Whether consciously done or not, it was the obvious difference in Odin’s treatment of the brothers that caused their relationship to suffer so greatly. Before long, Loki began slowing his step to match Frigga’s gait, taking her hand instead, bending over spell books together, matching her movements as she taught him to fight with blades and daggers and long swords. She encouraged him to whisper his magic, urging the power that pulsed just behind his fingertips to grow exponentially until his mind was strong enough to handle the rest.

Loki blinked.

His family was staring at him and Thomas, radiating the purest warmth, was unwavering at his side. He shook his head slowly, unsure. The last thing Loki wanted to do was reveal his vulnerability before the person he blamed for his pain and disillusion, an honesty he’d only ever shared with Thomas. He felt the overwhelming urge to call to Heimdall and drag Thomas from the room and back to their quiet life in London.

“Darling,” Thomas said, hand rising to tuck a strand of Loki’s hair behind his ear. “Perhaps this is for the best. Perhaps finally being open with what you went through…will help you…right here,” he said softly, placing his open palm over Loki’s heart.

Facing him, Loki looked into his blue eyes, placid and already so wise, for so young a person. He pulled him to the side, his back to the others.

“Do you really think so?” Loki whispered, cradling both of Thomas’ hands to his chest. “You saved me once. My heart is yours and if you think this is what is best for it, I will do it.”

Thomas smiled, his eyes turning down at the corners, soft, loving, his very heart. “I would never presume to tell you what to do. You and I have, for many years, decided things together, as a couple, because that was how we knew worked best for us.” Thomas took his face when Loki looked down, brow furrowing at the truth in his words. “I will support you in anything you decide to do. Anything. If you choose not to, I will respect that. But I do feel that it would be for the best. It is plainly evident that Frigga and Thor love you dearly, and if Odin hasn’t changed in a millennia, then it would still be better, perhaps, to lighten your load here,” Thomas said, fingers tightening over Loki’s chest. “Let us help you lighten it, darling.”

Sighing, Loki nodded and kissed Thomas’knuckles. How he went so long without his beloved and brave mortal, Loki did not know.

“Very well,” he said a little loudly, addressing the others. “I will share with you what happened. Although, much of it is murky even for me, and many of my memories from that time are lost. Which may be for the best.”

Frigga rose and came to stand next to her son. “You are not alone, my child. We are here with you. You will never be alone again.”

Loki swallowed. “If I may be truthful with you now,”he said softly, heart clenching at the tears gathering in her eyes. “I wasn’t alone during my torture either. You were with me, mother.”

She gasped his name quietly, lifting onto her toes to embrace him. The others remained silent but Loki felt Thomas beside him, his brow furrowing with sympathy, hand resting on his back.

“Very well, then,” Odin said, his voice rippling softly through the warm air. “Let us continue.”

Frigga pulled away, but not before touching Loki’s cheek and kissing his open palm. Thomas took his hand and led him to the table, taking his place in a chair beside Loki. Facing his family, Loki opened his mouth to speak.

**

As much as Tom had gleaned from Loki’s disturbing nightmares the truth, it turned out, was far worse. Loki’s tale was a jumble of softly spoken words, whose whispered expression did nothing to diminish the horror of his capture and subsequent, nearly unspeakable torture, images of which flashed in Tom’s eyes, remembering his time venturing into the dark recesses of Loki’s mind. Frigga’s quiet tears, Thor’s increasingly menacing silence, and Odin’s calm reserve bore witness to a ghastly recount of mental anguish, broken bones, torn skin, and ceaseless bleeding, the death of a boy Loki figured none would miss.

“I had to give myself up to it,” Loki was saying, hand tightening around Tom’s. “I needed to submit to bear it. It was,” Loki sighed, hanging his head, “the worst kind of defeat.” Tom rubbed along his spine, needing to be closer. There was an urgency to the way Loki clung to him. Nearly any break in the conversation had Loki turning to him, eyes roving his face.

“And you are better now…after all this time?” Odin asked.

“I was plagued by nightmares for a time. But Thomas relieved me of those,” Loki said, squeezing Tom’s hand.

“Do you know where this creature is now?” Odin asked.

Loki shook his head. “After New York, I served my time here and settled on Midgard. I’ve had no further contact with him, nor has he sought me out. I am of no use to him, for any matter.” His gaze settled on Tom, a quiet look.

“I will find him,” Thor said, inclining his head in Loki’s direction. There was a shade of danger in Thor’s eyes, his hands clasped loosely before him. There were no screamed threats or thrown chairs. His calm was terrifying, his vengeful certainty more than enough to chill Tom’s blood. So this was the Thor of legend, the quiet and indomitable prince. Protector and provider of justice and grisly judgment. Tom never wanted to be on the other end of such a force.

“I did not see it,” Thor continued. “On Stark Tower, during the battle. I did not see it. Your pain. The forced submission, and the humiliation caused by it. You told me that it was too late to stop it. You looked so resigned, admitting such a thing. But I didn’t see it was because another was coercing you.” Thor shrugged and studied his callused fingers. “Perhaps it was difficult for me to bear because in my mind I never imagined there existed a person with a power great enough to force your hand. My brother,” he finished softly, sadly.

Loki stayed quiet. Tom knew his hesitation with that subject, his belief that he might have wanted all that destruction all along, that to be forced was to subjugate himself to a truth he’d always known. But Tom didn’t think so. Loki felt remorse. It was just hard for him, despite all his feels of betrayal and sense of inferiority, to admit that remorse was even a possible option.

“Your dreams haunted you,” Frigga said. “This is what you dreamt. What Thomas worked so hard to rid you of.” She shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

They were quiet.

Thor rose and came to stand by Loki’s side, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “It is due time that such a being was brought to deserved justice, brother. You have my word.”

Loki blinked. Tom sat up next to him. “Thank you, Thor.”

“Are you satisfied, then?” Loki asked after a moment, eyes lifting to where Odin sat, expression unchanged.

“This man saved you?” Odin said, gesturing to Tom, ignoring Loki’s question.

“In every sense of the word, yes.” Tom shifted in his seat and Loki’s green eyes cut to him quickly, searching, burning. Tom blushed under the scrutiny of that affectionate gaze.

“Then I extend to him my gratitude,” Odin said softly, and all turned to him, a surprised silence following. “Despite the feelings you may have harbored for me,” Odin continued, and Tom pulled at Loki’s hand when he appeared ready to interrupt. “You are part of this family. Thor and I will meet in council over this creature’s fate,” he added quickly, eye veering to the side, distant. He stood abruptly, pain washing over his features, and Frigga rose with him, a small hand on his elbow to steady him. “My queen,” he whispered and she smiled up at him.

They came around the table and stopped before Loki.

“Son,” she said and Loki raised his eyes to meet hers. “You will never again suffer at the hands of this person or any other.” She cupped his chin. “On this you have my deepest assurance.”

A chill sped down Tom’s spine. In the steeled look of Frigga’s gaze, so different from her usual maternal kindness and warmth, he saw so much of what made Loki icily formidable, a tightening around the eyes, a promise.

Loki stood and embraced her, kissing her once on the cheek. He nodded at Odin, a bit stiffly. Thor clapped him once more on the shoulder.

“I shall join you and Thomas later for the tour we promised him. For now, Father and I have much to discuss.”

They left and Tom was finally, blessedly alone with Loki.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Gutted,” Loki said, rubbing his forehead.

Tom sighed. “I’m proud of you, darling.”

Loki turned wordlessly and took Tom’s hand. They materialized in his rooms, Loki pushing Tom to the bed.

“And you?” Loki whispered, mouthing at Tom’s neck. “You are mine.” He stripped him slowly, pressing his erection against Tom’s thigh. “Anything you desire.” He kissed Tom’s shoulder, sliding his teeth down to his nipple, and bit down. Tom gasped, fingers sliding into his dark hair. “It’s yours, my heart.”

“God…Loki. I love you.”

“And I you…my king.”

Tom’s eyes flew open. Loki was grinning widely down at him. One moment Loki was clothed, the next he was naked and pushing into Tom, the stretch and burn of penetration eased with whispered words of love against his lips.

They fumbled together on the bed, long pale limbs tangling, hands pulling, until finally Loki, kneeling on the bed, powered Tom’s thighs further apart and lifted him to straddle his hips.

Tom started a rhythm on his lap, bouncing and circling his hips. Loki took a handful of Tom’s curls and pulled, exposing his long neck to the sharp bite of his teeth. The harder Loki pulled at his hair, the harder Tom dug his nails into his shoulders, one hand clamped on the back of Loki’s neck, leveraging his movements and holding the god to his throat.

“I can be a bit…stronger with you now,” he murmured against his skin. Tom whimpered breathlessly and nodded. “How much…rougher can I be, love? Tell me.”

Tom felt the blood rise to the surface of his skin, the heat making him bask under Loki’s wide-eyed attention. Long fingers clenched at his back, demanding an answer. Tom’s voice was but a whisper. “Very rough. Go on and mark me.”

Loki growled and lifted Tom high before slamming him down again. Tom cried out, his eyes squeezing shut, Loki’s cooler skin alarming against his heat. “Yes, god yes. Loki, again.”

Keeping Tom flush against his chest, Loki snapped his hips and fucked into Tom over and over, swallowing his broken cries, his shaky moans, their lips meeting in need. He fisted Tom’s hair tightly and bit down on his neck, clamping on, holding Tom still when he struggled in his arms.

Loki groaned as Tom’s cock dripped and rubbed hotly against his belly. Releasing his neck, Loki slowed to a steady rock, Tom’s hazy gaze meeting his. Cradling Loki’s face with trembling fingers, Tom smiled, clenching his lower muscles, adoring how Loki grunted in pleasured pain.

“I love you, Thomas,” Loki whispered, opening his green eyes, long black lashes fanning up. “May I always be worthy of you.”

Tom kissed him hard, their tongues wrestling, bumping teeth, until with a surprised gasp, Tom was flipped over, landing on his hands and knees on the bed. Loki aligned himself and thrust in, reaching for Tom’s neck. Wrapping both hands around his throat, he kept Tom bent sharply backward and rutted into him. Tom’s prostate pulsed.

“Oh… _fuck_.”

“Come,” Loki said softly.

“Loki, please—!” 

“Come.”

“Darling, I need—harder—.”

Loki tightened his fingers and Tom felt his belly coiling tenderly, beautifully. He managed to gasp a panicked _yes_ when his orgasm burst over him. Eyes rolling back, fingers skimming the sheets, Tom seized up, falling back into Loki’s waiting arms. Hands soothed over his chest, lips cooed in his ear. He gulped in air, crying out as another wave of pleasure rolled through his veins, robbing him of sight, his cock still painfully erect.

Groaning, Loki bit his shoulder playfully and lowered him to the bed, pressing his legs together and pushing in again. Tom rocked beneath him, cheek pressed to the sheets, blinking dazedly. Flattening his hands on Tom’s back, Loki thrust in three, four, five times before his own climax ushered another set of groans, his come spilling warmly into him. Tom smiled lazily.

Breathing heavy, Loki lowered himself to lie on Tom, who sank further under his weight. Fingers touched his curls, kisses lingered on his temple, hips squirmed slowly on his buttocks. Tom practically purred.

“I…definitely…need a...shower…this time.”   

Loki laughed and slowly pulled out of Tom, who hissed at the burn.

“Right away, my dove,” Loki said softly, flipping Tom slowly and picking him up in his arms, carrying him like a bride into the washroom.

The water was so warm. Tom, curled up in Loki’s lap, wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face in Loki’s neck, falling asleep almost immediately, safety and the great sense of home settling over him. The god’s hands held him tight. The water lapped at their skin, like the soft bobbing of a sailboat.

**

Touring the grounds took most of the following day. They rose early, ate breakfast with Frigga, and met Thor in the throne room. They walked through the palace, long corridors and cavernous halls all jumbling together in Tom’s mind. He arched his neck to see it all the better, trailing behind, gaping. Thor regaled them with the histories and legends of each tapestry and mosaic and artifact, Loki occasionally interrupting to correct this or that fact.  

Loki kept a tight grip on his hand, tugging him along as they filed from one area to the next, the library and weapons hall the source of many tales from both brothers, who stared at each other with something akin to open affection.   

The city was wide and lit with light. Colorful streamers crisscrossed over golden-paved walkways. Vendors hawked their prices in the market place, but no merchant accepted payment from the princes, all offering free tastes of their delicacies. Tom tried a bit of everything, bursts of flavor alighting on his tongue. Loki drank in every reaction, every small moan of delight Tom made, until a blush was a constant fixture on Tom’s face.

They visited the gardens, blooming in great eruptions of colors and shapes Tom never dreamed possible. Next were the fields surrounding the city, great green pastures whose tall grasses waved gently in the passing breeze. And finally, the Rainbow Bridge and the Bifrost, where the golden, hooded eyes of Heimdall kept silent watch over their small group. Tom braved the galactic sphere before him and stood at the end of what seemed to be the very universe, toeing the edge of the Bifrost’s gleaming floor and looking down at the innumerable stars dancing beneath him.

He clutched at his chest, wonder and rapture flowering in his heart, the majesty of what stretched out before him only emphasizing his smallness in the grand scheme of the cosmos.

“A thing of wonder, is it not?”

Tom turned to find Heimdall beside him. The giant guardian was peering at the purple ocean of constellations, too.

“Yes,” Tom breathed, smiling. “It is from this height that you watched over Loki?”

Heimdall nodded. “It is. From here I keep watch over ten trillion souls.”

Tom tried hard not to gape, snapping his mouth shut at the last moment. But his eyes widened at what Heimdall had said. It seemed entirely impossible.

“Our mother and protector,” Heimdall mused, smiling slowly, eyes still on the yawning sky before them. Tom was unsure of whom or what he spoke, but he felt he was beginning to understand.

After their return to the palace, bathing and dressing for a quiet dinner with Frigga, Thor, and Odin, Loki and Tom fell into bed, exhausted.

They would leave for earth the next day.

As much as Tom had been in awe of Asgard and its gleaming lakes and waterfalls, its golden towers and thrumming luminescence, Tom was ready for home. Back to the quiet life he and Loki led in London, the small cafes and the bookshops and the homemade dinners and whispered words of poetry, the evening rainfalls and misty windows.

Snug under the blankets, Tom bent easily beneath Loki’s gentler touch, wandering lips and shallow thrusts. Spooning him from behind, Loki kept Tom at the brink for so long that Tom lost track of all time, mumbling incoherently, his hands fighting Loki’s considerable strength weakly, struggling to keep his eyes from falling shut in his stupor. Taking hold of his wrists and fastening them to his chest, Loki held him immobile, breathing on his neck sweet murmurs.

Granting mercy at long last, Loki let him fall over that abyss, Tom spilling onto the sheets with a grateful, broken sob.

They slept tangled together, Tom waking once during the night, eyes settled warily on the darkened room, the fire in the hearth burned low to glowing embers. Loki, clinging close, slept on.

The following morning found them all gathered in the Bifrost. Loki and Thor were speaking privately by the open window on the far side of the room, the window through which Heimdall kept watch over all. Tom observed them, their tall silhouettes, Thor’s big hand on Loki’s shoulder, both bent slightly toward the other, falling into what seemed to Tom a pattern of confidence, one perhaps newly remembered after so long a separation.

Frigga stepped up to him. “You should have seen them as children,” she said quietly, her eyes softening on her sons.

“A handful, I figure,” Tom replied, crossing his arms.

She laughed. “Yes, quite. My boys.” She sighed. “My moons, I called them. It wasn’t until after Loki was…gone…that I noticed the immense absence of his light. As much as Thor grew into the great man and leader he is today, my sky was considerably darker without my second moon.”

Tom touched her arm gently. “I truly think this won’t be our last visit to Asgard. I have a feeling in my heart that we will be here more often. I sense something…shifting in him. A change about to form,” he said, eyeing Loki across the way, nodding at something Thor was saying.

“You will be back, Thomas,” Frigga said. “I know it.” She winked at him and went to stand beside Odin, who was speaking with Heimdall.

There were embraces and kisses and lingering hands, but Loki and Tom were finally braced to make the journey home. He and Tom looked back once more at the others. They stood tall and golden, saddened, already anticipating their next visit.

Taking his hand, Loki looked at Tom. “Ready?”

Tom nodded and held tight to his arm, before they were shooting across space and time, landing on solid ground in their backyard in London, a scarred circle of earth their place mark for the future.

**

_60 years later_

The pews near the front of the church were full of weeping mourners, elderly friends and family of the departed.

A few people glanced their way as they took their seats toward the back, curious as to the eerily similar appearances of the gentlemen, one raven haired, the other blond.

Sitting, Loki took Tom’s hand and glanced at the pamphlet of more information about the deceased, before placing it on the seat next to him.

“She was a great lady,” Tom whispered. Loki hummed his agreement.

When he left the firm a few years after his and Loki’s return from Asgard, his secretary Emily kept their friendship going with emails and picnics, holiday and birthday parties. When she finally met Loki at an office Christmas party, she was graceful enough to hide her surprise at their similarities, and never mentioned it once in their long friendship. She often sent Tom home with clear-wrapped goodies baked in her kitchen for Loki, banana nut muffins, pumpkin bread, and snicker doodle cookies.

“I half expect you’ll leave me for her now,” Tom mused as Loki bit into yet another pastry, eyes fluttering closed. “Goodness, it’s worse than pizza with you.” Loki tossed him a sharp glare.

Tom and Loki were there to congratulate her on her marriage and the immediate birth of her twin sons. They babysat occasionally, Loki surprising Tom with how affectionate he was with the children, taking their wriggling bodies and blowing raspberries on their soft bellies, their gurgled laughter filling the flat. He would let their chubby hands crawl through his black hair, accepting their bow-shaped kisses on the sharp edge of his jawline. Tom would stare from his position at the doorway, a hot bottle of milk in one hand, a blue blanket in the other, his heart clenching with a desire he never thought was possible before.

It was to Tom’s great shame that he had to withdraw all communication with Emily and her boys after it was obvious that she was aging and he and Loki weren’t.

In fact, they had to be careful with nearly every part of their daily life, putting the house up for sale, living in different parts of the world, following a path of least recognition. Tom was under the suspicion that Loki put some sort of spell on the house, however, because it never sold. He eventually withdrew it from the market and let it sit alone and empty while they were away.

“They probably don’t even remember us,” Loki whispered, drawing Tom from his thoughts. Loki’s eyes were on Emily’s two sons, both grown and with their own families.

“No,” Tom agreed sadly.

They sat through the service, but as everyone began to pile into the waiting cars, Tom pulled Loki across the green lawns and toward their own car. “I’d like to leave now,” he said.

Loki glanced at the disappearing line of vehicles. “You don’t want to attend the burial?”

“No,” Tom said, stopping in the shade cast by the church’s bell tower, aiming his face at the sky, where the bright noon sun was vaguely blotted out by the smoke from bombs going off near the coastline. There was civil unrest in the country, for reasons Tom was too tired to figure out. They’d only returned to London for the funeral. There was nothing else keeping him there, save sentiment.

His London.

Loki stepped close, concern written on his face, the dark brows drawn together. “Are you alright?”

Tom sighed and smiled. “Yes. But I’d like to take my books and my journals and my tea set and my favorite black jumper and grey scarf, and I’d like to go to Asgard now.”

Loki took his elbow. “Love, are you sure?”

“Yes. This earth…Midgard is no longer the same. I can’t identify with it anymore. Emily was, I think, the last thing holding me here.”

Loki nodded, as if he too, had sensed the same thing. “ _’Let us go then, you and I…’_ ”

Tom nearly collapsed from his despair, falling against Loki’s chest. “Oh, god. Prufrock. You’re going to make me cry, Loki.”

“No, my love,” Loki said quickly, wrapping Tom close, cheeks pressed tightly together. “You will dance. And you will laugh. And you will love. Because it is in the very fabric of your being to do so. Come.”

In the blink of an eye, they were back in their house, a fine layer of dust covering every surface, every piece of furniture. Within seconds, Loki had Tom’s requested items packed away and stacked next to them in boxes.

Standing once again on the barren, scarred piece of earth in the backyard, Tom shook from barely suppressed nerves. He stared up at their house, their home for so many years, abandoned. As often as they had visited Asgard over the years, he felt a sense of finality to this next trip, a choice not easily undone.

Nor would he wish it to be. He was ready. Even if he did feel a small panic.

“We can come back? For short visits?” he asked, looking into Loki’s eyes. “To purchase new books? And to check on the state of things? To check on…London?”

“Do not be afraid, my lion,” Loki whispered, lips at Tom’s temple. “We will come whenever you ask. _’You are marvelous. The gods await to delight in you.’_ ”

“Bukowski,” Tom said with a relieved laugh, as he and Loki and their few belongings were hauled into the burning sky, and away, to home.

 

**Epilogue**

“Thomas,” Loki called from the bath.

“At the balcony,” he heard.

Loki slid a robe over his naked body and walked out to lean against Thomas’ back, both gazing out into the vast city of Asgard spread out before them. A fragrant breeze wafted over them.

“Have I ever told you about a certain part of lore from my people?”

Thomas’ brow furrowed. “You’ve hardly told me anything about your people.”

“Ah,” Loki continued. “Well this particular part might interest you greatly.”

Thomas turned in his arms, leaning back against the rail. “Oh. Of course, please tell me.”

Loki swallowed and looked down, licking his lips nervously. “Well, there is a capability of my kind that makes us different from the Aesir.” Apart from the obvious, hideous physicality, Loki thought to himself.

“How so?”

“Well. In my race, there is no difference between male and female. Each of us has the ability to carry a child to term and birth them.”

Tom started. “But how?”

“I do also have female reproductive organs. I’ve just…hidden them.” He felt the distinctive heat of blood rushing to his face.

Thomas’ eyes strayed down, no doubt wondering where exactly Loki had hidden them.

Loki smiled, his confidence growing by the second. He’d wanted to tell Thomas about this for a while now, but was too nervous to follow through. All it took was Emily’s sons to be born for the idea to take root. The buoyant joy on Thomas’ face when they would care for the twins enough to want to realize this desire of Thomas’, if he so wanted.

_Thank you, Emily_ , he whispered in his mind, hoping his gratitude found its way to her, wherever she was.

“Would you…like me to show you? Where they’re hidden?” He stepped closer, leaning down to catch Thomas’ eye. “Would you like to try?” he said softly.

Thomas blinked once at him, blue eyes filling with tears, trembling fingers digging into Loki’s hips, and smiled.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much, from the bottom of my heart, for following this story and supporting me with your unfailing kindness. This was a work of love and I am so happy that I can bring this story to a close, with Loki and Tom's love intact and eternal. 
> 
> Based on how I ended it, I would like you to know that I am considering a sequel. Because I'm itching for a chance to write about mpreg and this would be perfect *_* How soon that happens, I'm not sure. I have three other stories I'm working on right now that I would like to finish, or at least advance on, before I can return to Loki and Tom, my very first pairing. I am so immensely proud. 
> 
> Thank you. I'm drowning in my tears!

**Author's Note:**

> I will be adding more soon. The Loki/nightmare situation gives me so many emotions.


End file.
